Reunion
by Anime Princess
Summary: COMPLETE! It's five years into Arthur's rule, and Sarmatians from the past have arrived. Emotions run high as the past and the present collide in a clash of cultural differences.
1. Chapter 1

Reunion 1

This story will change perspectives a lot of times in a chapter. It will focus on the Sarmatian visitors and the Knights. The means that it is switching from the Knights to the Sarmatians.

Emogen and Lancelot, with their three children beside them-Erlina and Enid- and in his arms-Cadman, quickly traveled the length of their Wing and arrived in the center of all ten wings of the castle. In the center of all the wings was their common rooms, where all of them gathered to relax and have fun, the kitchens, where they ate their meals privately together, and the nursery, where all their children with the exceptions of Alec, Lucus, Gilly, Brent, Caoimhe and Dierdre, Ennis, and Devin, were taken to be cared for during the day while their parents were busy with the Kingdom. Alec, Lucus, Gilly, Brent, Ennis, and Devin where waiting outside for their Masters, the Knights they were apprenticed to. The elder twins of the castle, Caoimhe and Dierdre, were already with Lady Fulucina and Lady Blythe learning how to run a household effectively and their academics-math, reading, and writing.

As they reached the doors, Lancelot pulled it open and greeted cheerfully, "Vanora, my love! How are you this morning?"

Vanora, a very pretty woman of thirty-six, turned to him and smiled in welcome.

She laughed and said, "I am well Lance! I can see you two are as well!"

Emogen smiled, gave her a hug, and said as she took her son from him and passed Cadman to the older woman, "You are right, as usual! Unfortunately, we have to go meet with the Sarmatians that Tristran's men are escorting to the castle. They should be arriving any moment, I think."

She glanced over to him and he nodded in agreement. Vanora's red head shook with worry. This would be the first time in five years that the ex-Knights of Sarmatia would have to confront their pasts. He knew she was anxious for them all.

Lancelot placed a small kiss upon her cheek and said, "We'll be fine. Besides, we made our choice, and we don't regret it at all."

Vanora and Emogen smiled at him and Vanora replied, "I'm just worried. I remember some of the stories Bors told me about his tribe. They didn't seem very tolerant of those not of Sarmatian blood."

Lancelot closed his eyes and sighed. It was true. With another sigh he closed his eyes again and brought the memories of his past to the forefront. _Sarmatia was a land surrounded by the Caspian Sea and the Black Sea. The people of my past are separated into eleven different clans that each controlled one of the eleven different territories that makes up Sarmatia. I once belonged to the Lion Tribe._ _My father, Babai, is the High Tribal Leader and during Council Meetings, his vote was nine times out of ten the tiebreaker. Since I decided to remain here in Briton and my family must have thought me to be dead, my younger brother, Tarkan (Tar-can), who would now be twenty-seven, would have taken up **MY** rightful place as Tribal Leader of the Clan Lion as Babai's only living and eldest son._ He smirked. _Every tribe within the land of Sarmatia is like an individual kingdom with a royal family and guards to protect those families._ _My family, the true Clan Lion, was the royal clan of the Lion Tribe. I was once Prince Lancelot of Clan Lion. Now, Tarkan is Prince Tarkan of Clan Lion. _His smile widened; _and I'm absolutely thrilled that I'm not the prince!_ He shook his head and returned to his original train of thought, _Sarmatia has four Council Meetings annually and each tribe, Lion, Wolf, Panther, Bear, Horse, Eagle, Snake, Coyote, Hawk, Leopard, and Cheetah are represented equally. That is one of the reasons that the Knights accepted Arthur and his authority so easily; the round Table is similar to are own Sarmatian Meetings._

Vanora waved a hand in front of him and said, "Hello! You in there Lancelot?"

Lancelot shook his head and caught the delicate looking hand with his own.

"I am fine. I was just thinking of Sarmatia. It will be difficult to speak with them, but it must be done. I just want to know why they have traveled so far from Sarmatia. It just doesn't make any sense!"

Emogen cuddled into him and said, "Well, lets get to the Great Hall and find out why they are here. Hopefully we can deal with them quickly and get on with things." She smiled alluringly and added, "After all, we have a few days of vacation coming soon."

Lancelot groaned and shivered in an attempt to suppress in hormones. He hated it when Emogen talked like that! It made him **SO** uncomfortable for a few hours.

Vanora giggled and said, "Off with ya! I'll watch the little ones."

They kissed her cheeks again, hugged their daughters, and left the nursery. The other Knights were just arriving with their children too.

Gawain smiled at him and said, "You've dropped our Sun and Moon off along with Cadman, yes?"

Lancelot grinned at his daughters' nicknames and nodded as Galahad continued heatedly, "Then get your arse to the Great Hall! Tristran is attempting to play peacemaker between the Sarmatians and Arthur. They didn't even wait to find out anything before they started yelling at him-**_IN SARMATIAN!_** You two need to hurry. Tristran looked like he wanted to run them all through with his curved sword and be done with it!"

Lancelot and Emogen stared at one another with pale faces. If Tristran was already this unnerved with the people of their pasts, it must be really bad especially if Tristan lost his legendary calm so quickly.

"We're on it!" exclaimed Lancelot as he grabbed his wife's hand and ran through the castle halls. All the servants jumped out of their way as they both cried out _'sorry'_ to anyone they accidentally hit.

In no time at all, but to Lancelot it seemed an eternity to long, they arrived. The announcer, Randolph, smiled tightly at them and winced as another yell and a crashing sound made it to their ears.

Lancelot patted him on the shoulder and said, "Go inside Sir Randolph and announce us. Make it as loud as possible. We want them to be shocked into calmness."

Randolph smiled at his plan and silently disappeared behind the large doors. Randolph smirked and slammed his iron staff onto the harsh stone floor. It made a gonging sound that echoed throughout the Great Hall causing all the sound within the large room to quiet at once. Lancelot smirked. He liked it when a plan of his went according to plan-even the tiny inconsequential ones.

He heard Randolph announce, "Announcing! Lord and Lady Lyon! Lord Lancelot Shieldguard Lyon of the House of Lyon, Knight Commander, King Protectorate of the House of Camelot and a Lord of the Briton Isles, and First Knight of the Round Table and his wife, Lady Emogen Serenity of the House of Lyon, Lady Ambassador of Peace and the Queen's High Councilor!"

Arthur and Tristran breathed a sigh of relief. They were eternally grateful to whoever it was that made Lancelot and Emogen arrive when they did. If they had to play polite to this group for one more minute, they were sure that the Sarmatian men would no longer be amongst the living.

Lancelot and Emogen, together, walked down the center walkway of the Great Hall and swiftly arrived at the stairs that lead to their silver thrones just a step below Arthur and Cordelia's golden ones.

As they turned and sat down on their thrones, Lancelot said commandingly but gently, "Now, let us try this again, who are you? Why have you come to our fair city to seek King Arthur's council?"

The Sarmatians before them were a rowdy group that looked like they just stormed into the Great Hall without stopping to clean themselves up. Not that he minded, but it was the polite thing to do when meeting new people. Then he winced, if only to himself, and thought _I've been to involved with peace talks lately, I'm starting to think like Emmy does with courtly mannerisms._

One man, an older man, probably in his early sixties, stepped forward and said loudly, "I am Atilla, High Tribal Leader of the Horse Tribe of Sarmatia! We seek your so-called **KING ARTHUR** because we want to know what happened to our boys! We gave Rome fifty of our boys, and not one of them did Rome return! We know that this **KING** is truly Artorius Castus, the Roman Commander of the Sarmatian Knights! **_WHERE ARE OUR SONS!_**"

Before Lancelot could answer, another voice cut in sharply, "Atilla! That is enough! We aren't here to cause a riot! We are here to find out what happened to the Knights. They certainly cannot be all dead as others think. Now, stand down now, or I shall do it for you."

The group of Sarmatians parts like the Red Sea of Arthur's Bible and revealed a pretty Sarmatian woman of her mid twenties. She had long, waist length chestnut brown hair and brown eyes. Lancelot jolted back into his chair and reeled in shock. Those eyes were his own eyes! But, the only women he knew to have his eyes were his mother and his sister, Habren. This woman appeared to be younger than he, leading him to believe that this was his baby sister.

Lancelot cut in smoothly, "My Lady, we welcome all into our halls. Tell me, what is your name? Who is it that you seek?"

The woman bowed slightly and said strongly as another man with matching chestnut brown hair appeared at her side in an open show of support, "My name is Princess Habren of the Lion Tribe, daughter of High Tribal Leader King Babai and Queen Ama. I am here in search of my eldest brother, First Prince Lancelot du Lac of the Lion Clan."

Before he could reply, Randolph appeared, slammed his iron staff onto the stone floor, and announced, "Announcing, Lord Gawain Axelord of the House of Wolfe, Senior Master of War, Knight of the Round Table and his wife, Lady Alma Peaceful Wolfe, Lady of Medicine!"

Gawain and Alma dressed in their own court attire of black, yellow gold (tan), and bronze walked through the center of the Great Hall and sat down in two bronze throne-like chairs on either side of the stairs where Arthur, Cordelia, Lancelot, and Emogen sat. The Knights of the Round Table and their wives' chairs were lined up on the left and right of the stairs creating the very same center walkway that they had just traversed down not moments ago. Upon their chairs was engraved their family's shield.

Randolph continued, "Announcing! Lord Galahad Weaponsguild Wolfe of the House of Wolfe, Head Arms Master and Knight of the Round Table and his wife, Lady Enys Tranquil Wolfe of the House of Wolfe, Senior Lady of Medicine!"

Galahad and Enys were dressed very similarly to Gawain and Alma because their houses were one and the same, and yet, slightly different. The brothers had wanted it to be this way, and Arthur wholeheartedly approved of it. The only differences in the two couples' mode of dress, was the colors. Galahad and Enys' court clothes were light blue and bronze. Upon their heads were their bronze crowns that were engraved with wolves with topaz (light blue) stones. They too walked quickly down the center of the hall and sat in their chairs that were engraved with their family Coat of Arms.

Randolph smiled at the ire of the Sarmatian group and started again, "Announcing! Lord Bors Chiefton Beran of the House of Beran, Governor of Kameland City-Proper of Camelot and Knight of the Round Table and his wife, Lady Vanora Patient Beran of the House of Beran, Royal Caretaker, Castle Governess, and Lady of Kameland City-Proper!"

The Knights that were already seated raised their eyebrows at Vanora's announcing. _Isn't she supposed to be with our children?_ They thought. She smiled and winked at them all as she sat down next to Enys. They smiled in understanding. She left the children to Lady Sera, Enys' mother, and Lady Ashley, the woman who had educated them about birth five years ago.

Habren sighed as yet **ANOTHER** couple interrupted her discussion with this **LORD** Lancelot. She couldn't help but notice how much this Lord, this King Protectorate, this…this…this **KNIGHT** looked like an older version of her brother. She missed him very much, and had been depressed when he hadn't returned when his fifteen years were through. She was the only one in her family that truly believed that he had lived to see the end of fifteen years. Her father, her mother, and her brother all thought she was crazy and in denial. She frowned and looked at the silver crowned man again. He did look a lot like her father had once at that age. This man, this Knight was also around the same age her brother is. _But, it couldn't be this easy, right? I mean, I couldn't have found him so quickly?'_

She blinked back into the present as Tarkan, her older brother, nudged her in the ribs. She absent-mindedly rubbed them as the announcer ended, "Announcing, Lord Connor Arbitrator Truth of the House of Truth, Head of Regulations and Knight of the Round Table!"

She sighed in relief and looked at the gathered council members. She couldn't help but be impressed through. Not only did they have this room set up to be intimidating, they also have men and women in balance with one another…well almost…the three Lords closest to her had no wives apparently (Connor, Dean, and Seamus).

Lancelot cleared his throat and said, "Since all of us are here, and we unfortunately, interrupted this lovely lady, Lady Habren, will you allow me to explain quickly who you are and what you want with this court?"

She sighed but nodded.

Her brother-look-alike stood up and said, "Fellow Knights and Ladies of Camelot, these are Sarmatians looking for their missing loved ones. We are to try and help them find the resting places for their lost loved ones."

Habren saw the King, Arthur, raise an odd eyebrow at Lord Lancelot's speech and made herself remember it so she could analyze it later with her tribesman, Tarkan (Tar-can), Pappy (Pa-Pi), and Melean (Mel-e-in), her husband, later on in their chambers.

Galahad blinked and shook his head. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. They had traveled more than eight thousand miles just to find out about dead men that could tell no tales? He frowned. _I need to stop visiting that Tavern so much. I'm starting to sound like the Bard currently living there, Miles._

Gawain coughed and cleared his throat uncomfortably. _I have not even thought about this! I never dreamed that people from my past would come looking for me._ Of course he had thought about going home to tell his mother and father that he was alive, but he couldn't leave Alma and the others. They were his family now; not his mother and father. He loved them, yes, but he had moved on from the ties they held on him.

Bors and Dagonet couldn't believe their eyes. They could recognize a few of the people in the Sarmatian group. Bors thought he recognized a man with shoulder length blond hair and blue eyes that looked to be about thirty-five years old. He had his father's old Tribal sash around his waist. _Is that really my little brother, Tor?_ He looked at the man standing beside Tor. He had black hair, blue eyes, and a strangely family scar running down the left side of his face from his temple to his chin. He was maybe a few years older than himself…_No! That can't be Artur! Could that rubbish of a son of a dog still live!_

Dagonet had to rub his eyes. _Atilla, that old bitter arse is still alive! How can that be? And is that, Miskoc, my old friend? I thought he died! How'd he survive that arrow? Not even Enys could have saved him from that wound!_

The two cousins looked at one another in disbelief as a stray thought ran through both their heads at the same time, _They are going to say horrible things to Cina/Vanny when they find out who they are…or rather, what race they are!_

Tristran gulped which was very unlike him, but he couldn't help it. There was no mistaking that face and those eyes. That woman in the back, with long, sleek, black hair that fell to her mid back and gray eyes, was his little sister, Princess Ilona of the Panther Tribe. She was an exact replica of his mother, Queen Aorsi, at her age. The woman beside his sister made his stomach churn. Those stunning blue eyes were very familiar to him. Not that he liked them, no, not at all. In fact, he hated those blue eyes. They belonged to a girl from his past-his fiancée from childhood. How he hated Calbur!_ How can she be here? I thought she was going to be executed! She was found guilty of killing my older brother, Tsar, thereby forcing **ME** to come here to Briton more than twenty years ago!_ He smirked evilly as he remembered her face as he rode off to the Romans dressed in their red cloaks. Her tanned face had been one of horror and ire. He had been grateful as well as enraged at her then. Without her help he wouldn't be here with Ula now. _If she hadn't done what she did to Tsar, I would be married to her, and I probably would have killed myself by now. _

Arthur glanced at all his Knights. They seemed to be reacting to the news pretty well, although he knew with out a doubt, that they were all panicking on the inside-even Tristran. He glanced at Lancelot. He didn't understand why his friend hadn't acknowledged himself as the Lancelot Princess Habren was looking for, but he intended to find out as soon as possible.

Lady Emogen cleared her throat and stood up. All in the room turned their attention to Lancelot's wife.

She said clearly, "My Lady Habren of the Clan Lion, I am Lady Emogen of the House of Lyon. I can understand your reasoning for coming here to Briton to find your brother, but I must insist that you make sure your friends do not lose their tempers here. After all, anger directed at us will get you and us nowhere. Now, if you could please tell us the names of the Knights of Sarmatia that you seek?"

Habren was impressed. This woman who was dressed in the same color scheme as her look-alike-brother was smart and cunning. In one breath, she had appeared sympathetic, commanding, and chiding all at once. She knew this woman would be a worthy opponent.

She cleared her throat and said loudly, "We seek those named First Prince Lancelot du Lac, Prince of the Lion Clan, First Prince Gawain Gray-wolf, Prince of the Wolf Clan, Second Prince Galahad Greenhill of the Wolf Clan, First Prince Tristran Sharpeye of the Panther Clan, First Prince Bors Bearhound of the Bear Clan, First Prince Dagonet Surefoot of the Horse Clan, First Prince Kay Wingfeather of the Eagle Clan, First Prince Percival Sharpbeak of the Hawk Clan, First Prince Beveidere Sly of the Snake Clan, First Prince Garean Sharptooth of the Coyote Clan, cousin to Princes Gawain and Galahad of the Wolf Clan, First Prince Lazolos Spotedcoat of the Leopard Clan, First Prince Calburan Fastrunner of the Cheetah Clan, Sir Horal, Sir Canbur, Sir Frangin, Sir Zane, Sir Galbern….."

All the Knights closed their eyes in pain as they remembered each and every one of those faithful, strong, and loyal Knights. They couldn't believe the pain they still felt for their fallen brothers. It seemed almost to unbelievable-their feelings of sadness and guilt. How could these people of their youth, make them feel like this-as if their deaths occurred just the day before? Why do they want them to feel such pain for those long gone now? It's not like they are forgotten-no-they all made sure of that each time they met at the Round Table.

The Ladies of Camelot stared fiercely at the group before them. These people were officially on their bad side. If this is the kind of politics they wanted to play, fine, but they were not going to win.

After all, the Ladies of Camelot never lose!

First chapter is finished! Whew! Don't expect them to come out as fast as the others did. It'll take me a while to write these down since I'm bringing in feelings and prejudice that I simply can't understand. So, I'm going to be taking a bit longer to get it all right.


	2. Chapter 2

Reunion 2

As the Knights gathered their bearings once more, Lancelot, rose and said as he moved to stand next to his wife, "We will adjourn to discuss where these men found their final resting places, and in a days time, we will give you a listing of all their burial mounds. Sir Randolph, could you please escort our esteemed Sarmatian guests to the sixth floor where they can find food and beds after their long journey?"

Sir Randolph, who was currently being replaced by another announcer, stood straighter and said proudly, "It'll be my honor, Lord Lancelot."

Lancelot saw his little sister, Habren, raise her eyebrow curiously. He sighed in relief when she said, "Very well Lord Lancelot, King Arthur, thank you for your time and your audience. We shall await your findings on the morrow."

The other Sarmatians grumbled at being told what to do, especially Atilla, but obediently followed the youngest Sarmatian royal much to the Knights relief.

When the Hall was cleared, Arthur asked, "Lance, why didn't you tell your sister who you are? She and your brother have traveled far to find you."

Lancelot sat down wryly and said as he ran a hand though his curly hair, "It's not that I'm not glad to see them Arthur, far from it. It's just that, I feel uncomfortable in their presence. I mean they were my people! They are the dreams of my past, but now, they are a nightmare come to life. Sarmatians as a whole are not accepting of big changes. I am, or rather, I was, Prince of the Lion Tribe, Arthur. As the eldest and a royal, it was supposed to be my duty to marry and wed another Sarmatian woman to continue the pure bloodline of my ancestors. In fact, all of us had this duty as well."

Lancelot looked up and stared at his fellow ex-Sarmatians. As Arthur gazed upon them, they nodded regretfully and Bors added in, "My tribe, the Bear Tribe, is the worst of them all. When Tor, my little brother, and the others find out that I'm married to a Brit and have had children, or half-breed mongrels to them, with Vanny, they'll try to either kill them all or they'll disown me. Which isn't all that bad, but I'm more worried about the first response Arthur."

Dagonet nodded and Vanora bit her lip and held on tightly to Ula, who was sitting next to her.

Alma asked in alarm, "What should we expect from the other Tribes?"

Gawain hurried to reassure his wife, "The Wolf Tribe may not like it, but they will tolerate the fact that I have married a woman of non-pure Sarmatian blood."

Galahad nodded eagerly in support of his brother. Then he bit his lip and said uncertainly, "But it might be a battle for me to find acceptance though. Gawain is the first-born you see, but I'm the second. They may tolerate Briana and Belaya, but I'm not to sure of their reactions to Briac and Aithne."

Galahad saw and more importantly felt Enys take in a sharp breath and hurried to add, "Even if they dismiss our children as mongrels and try to make me return to the Tribe, I will not! I vowed to love and be with you for the rest of our days so long as our love and passions for one another burned brightly. I will not leave you here, my love."

_Enys' smile is well worth the embarrassment I'm going to get from the others._ Thought Galahad with a goofy smile.

Lancelot smiled at the younger couple, held his wife's hand reassuringly, and said calmly, "Do not worry about how the Lion Tribe will react to our children. The Lion Tribe is the most accepting of mixed marriages. There might be an argument about me not marrying a Sarmatian woman..."

He grew thoughtful and added, "I believe that there was talk of me marrying the princess of the Wolf Tribe before I left twenty years ago, but they will accept Cadman and the Twins easily enough. My tribe understands the need for mixed marriages because not only are the number of

Sarmatian males falling, but the family lines have been joined many times already, and there were fears of accidentally marrying a cousin when I was last there. My old Tribe's belief is simply this; yes the children are of mixed heritages, but that doesn't mean they can't be taught the culture and language of the Sarmatian people. Plus, by marrying into other races, it brings in new, desperately needed, blood."

Galahad snorted and said, "You were to be married to Agrimpasa? I'm glad you married Emmy then. No one deserves my twin sister as a wife. She's a whore and a whiney little brat!"

Enys and the others stared at him in shock as Gawain explained, "Yes, Galahad is a twin. Yes, he truly thinks that Agrimpasa is a whore and a whiney brat because it is true. My little sister lost her virginity at the age of ten with one of the older boys from our tribe. Mother said is was to teach her how to please her handsome future husband."

Lancelot felt a bit ill and looked at his friend and king. Arthur was thinking deeply. Arthur was unsure about what to do about the Sarmatian visitors. The Sarmatians would no doubt try and take his Knights back to Sarmatia when they found out just **WHO** they are, but they really came to see the Knights burial mounds. _These people have traveled a long way to see the resting places of my Knights. They should be allowed to send the Knights off with honorable prayers in their own tongue, but I do not want them to remain here long. My Knights do **NOT** deserve their evil words and prejudices. _

Habren, Tarkan, and the other Sarmatian travelers followed the smartly dressed man, and they had to stop abruptly as two pretty young girls with the dark skin tones of the Sarmatian people, appeared. They were talking to two pretty pale skinned older women. One was older and had ashy black hair and the other woman looked like she had Roman blood in her. Each Sarmatian felt their ire rise as the four, oblivious to their cultural differences, acted like friends.

"Lady Fulucina! Lady Blythe! Ladies Caoimhe and Dierdre! Are your studies concluded for the day already?" asked Sir Randolph with a respectful bow.

The group of Sarmatians was shocked when the Roman woman, who they expected to sneer and scorn at the nice, friendly man, smiled gently at Sir Randolph instead and said softly, "Yes Sir Randolph, we are. Today's lessons went by pretty fast. We are actually on our way to the Great Hall for the girls' weapons training. Lancelot said he wanted to test them on a few sword techniques before they trained with Galahad. Are they still there?"

Sir Randolph nodded and said eagerly, much to the Sarmatians' surprise, because they couldn't understand why a person would be happy at being ordered around-by a **ROMAN** no less, "Oh yes, my Lady! They are currently talking about the resting places of the Knights of the Past. These good people behind me, actually, are the Sarmatians that Lord Tristran's men escorted to Camelot this morning! They have come to find their lost loved ones and send them off with a proper Sarmatian funeral!"

Tarkan saw the woman labeled Lady Fulucina looked beyond the announcer and smiled slightly in welcome at them. Tarkan was wary of this seemingly harmless Roman. She appeared nice, but he had learned a long time ago that appearances could be deceiving.

The brown hared Roman woman smiled and said with a small curtsy, "Welcome _'Sons and Daughters of Sarmatia'_, may you find the loved ones you seek. May they prosper in the afterlife of freedom and come back as great horses!"

Atilla blinked and demanded rudely, "How is it that **YOU**, a high and mighty **ROMAN** Lady of court, know so much about our prayers?"

Fulucina bit her lip as she remembered her husband's stories about his tribe and how they viewed outsiders, _Cina, my love, the people of my past…they cannot see what the world is truly about. They are so focused on themselves that they think all others are below them. That's one of the real reasons that Bors and I did not wish to return to Sarmatia. They have become filled with prejudice like most Romans._

A sharp slap on her arm jolted her back to the present. She gasped in pain and held her arm tenderly in her other hand as Caoimhe and Dierdre growled at them and exclaimed together in harmony, "Don't you dare hit Auntie Cina ever again!"

Tor, slightly unnerved by the uncanny resemblance the two girls before him had to his late mother, Agrippia, held Atilla tightly by the shoulders and asked in a bland voice, "Who are you two? Why is it that you both look Sarmatian?"

The twin on the right, who had her long blond hair pulled up into a tight bun surrounded by a small tiara and deep piercing blue eyes, stood straight and said, "I am Lady Caoimhe Beran of the House of Beran, first-born daughter of Lord Bors Chiefton Beran and Lady Vanora Deore Beran of the House Beran, Lord and Lady of Kameland City-Proper of Camelot!"

The twin on the left, with her blond hair tumbling down to her waist in wavy curls and sharp and equally piercing blue eyes, ended, "And I am Lady Dierdre Beran of the House of Beran, daughter of Lord Bors Chiefton Beran and Lady Vanora Deore Beran of the House Beran, younger twin sister of Lady Caoimhe of the House of Beran!"

Tor bit his lip and tried again with a dryly-bland voice because he didn't want to lose his temper. If he worded his questions right, he might be able to find out if these two were his late-brother's mongrel children. He found himself at a crossroads. His tribe believed that those of mixed blood were unworthy of the pride and strength of Sarmatia. They felt that those of other races were below them. While he agreed to a point, he had also loved his older brother more than he loved his people's beliefs. If these two were truly his late-brother's bastards, he didn't know what he'd do. _I'll have to hold back Atilla and Artur. They just might kill them because they are mongrels._

"No, no, I mean, are you Sarmatian?"

Fulucina had, had enough. She knew where this line of questioning was heading, and she didn't want the twins to be exposed to such prejudices. They were innocent of such evils belonging to the ignorant people in the world, and she hoped that they would never have to be exposed to it.

"My Lords and Ladies, I must apologize and insist that you let us pass. We are late for the twins' training." Inserted Fulucina pointedly as she started to push the twins forward with the silent Lady Blythe's help.

Unfortunately, Bors and Vanora hadn't explained to their children why the secrets of their blood needed to be kept a secret. Dierdre was so worked up, that she said crossly, "Of course I'm Sarmatian! My father **IS** or rather **WAS** a Sarmatian Knight before he became one of the Lords of Camelot!"

Fulucina sighed and closed her eyes in despair. _Things are about to get ugly._ She thought sadly and a bit fearfully as the group before her started to shout loudly at one another.

Habren couldn't believe what she had just heard. So, at least one Knight still lived. Since he was a Lord here in Camelot, she was willing to bet her life that the other Lords of Camelot, save the King and the three that had been seated closest to her (Dean, Seamus, and Connor), were Sarmatians too. _That means…that means that Lord Lancelot really **IS** my older brother, Lancelot! _

As the shouting got louder, Arthur and Lancelot marched out and Arthur demanded loudly, "What is all the yelling about!"

They were surprised when a burly man, a few years older than themselves, marched up to them and punched Arthur in the face.

"**ARTHUR!**" roared Lancelot as he jumped in front of his king and friend and in a flash had his two demon blades out and crossed at the Sarmatian's neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cina and Lady Blythe, the Royal Professor of Academics, quickly pull his nieces behind them and away from the Sarmatians. He breathed easier as Arthur placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

The Sarmatian whose life he now commanded, glared at them both and demanded hotly, "Where is my brother, Bors? I know he was in there! Tell me! Which one was he!"

Arthur winced slightly at the pain flooding his body, but remained remarkably calm and as he opened his mouth, Bors himself answered gravely, "I am Bors. Tor, you shouldn't have touched Arthur. Now you'll be lucky to get out of this alive."

Lancelot watched the man, now named Tor, like a hawk as he slowly moved his head to look at the older Knight behind him.

Tor gulped and asked meanly, "Why didn't you come home! Because of you, grandmother died of a broken heart and father had to name **ME** heir! I never wanted to **BE** heir! Why didn't you come home!"

Bors stepped around him. Lancelot knew, just by the older Knights body language that he was to stand down. Lancelot thought harshly as he sheathed his swords, _Bors must be really shaken up by this. We didn't expect them to hit Arthur or find out about our true identities so quickly. Bors, by his own admission to me just now, will cut his own little brother down to protect us all._

Bors opened his arms and sighed as his daughters rushed into his arms. They were his baby girls-his first-born daughters. Even though he loved all his children-all fourteen of them-these two, his _Beauty and Young Lady_, were extra special in his heart.

When they were safely behind him and close to Lancelot and Arthur, he answered truthfully and with an open and honest face, "I didn't return to Sarmatian because I thought that all of the people that I had once known were cold and buried a long time ago. Fifteen years is an awful long time to believe that all the people of my past were still alive and well. It was just easier to think of you all as dead and remember you as you were. Also, I fell in love."

At his words Lancelot and Arthur had to grimace-Lancelot most of all. This was not going to get any better, anytime soon.

Hoping to debunk the fight that was just seconds from starting, Lancelot said clearly and with a great deal of authority, "Why don't we return to the Great Hall and discuss this civilly? That way Lady Fulucina and Lady Blythe can escort the Twins to their commons to wait for us."

Atilla, the Head Tribal Leader of the Horse Tribe, and Artur, a childhood rival of Bors', who had joined Tor in front of Bors, spit on the ground, and Artur stated in a voice full of hate, disgust, and revile that matched the ugliness of his very presence, "These…these…these animals should be left out to die! They stink up the air we breath and make my stomach turn at just the thought of them. Remove these beasts at once!"

Bors growled and said heatedly as his daughters recoiled into his body for safety, "They are **NOT** beasts! They are beautiful generous young ladies! If you say another word Artur, so help me God…"

"**_GOD!_** You believe in the accursed Roman God! How low have you fallen brother?" demanded Tor as he marched right up to his elder brother totally ignoring the two girls shivering in fear in their father's embrace.

_After all _Tor thought in repulsion _they are nothing but half-breed mongrels. Not even worth the effort to move. They are nothing but a waist of good Sarmatian blood. _His face twisted into a horrible sneer as he ended, "I bet they aren't even strong enough to fight like our women, Bors! You remember, our strong, independent, fiery women who fight by our side in battle? These…these…muddy impure bastards are **NOT** recognized by the Tribe!"

Lancelot growled and started to pull his swords out once more, when they heard a loud voice. He smirked. He knew this voice all too well. It had cut and bruised his flesh and deafened his ears many times over the course of twenty years, and he had no doubt that it would continue to do so until one of them was cold and dead. He snorted and ended wryly to himself, _and maybe even into the afterlife. I doubt that Vanny will let me rest in peace with her going to my grave and yelling at me all the time when things go wrong. Just like she does now._

"My children, **MR. TOR**," started the red-hared, blue-eyed Lady of Kameland City. They were shocked that she had purposely dismissed his royal title in visibly aggravated rudeness.

As she stomped right up to the younger man she, placed her finger into his chest, and pushed threateningly, "are **NOT** just animals to be ignored because they aren't what you think of as **_'pure blooded!'_** They are perfect angels just the way they are! And if **YOUR** bloody ignorant, prejudicial tribe cannot see their value, no wonder the Sarmatian people are dying out! In fact, I'll pray to the Goddess and the Christian Lord All-Mighty that he totally wipes you all **OUT!**"

With that she spun around, _quite the feat with the amount of space available_, thought the Knights, and said more gently, "Come my darlings. Lets leave the men to deal with these ruffian, uncivilized, and uncouth, travelers."

Lancelot had to bite the inside of his mouth to prevent himself from laughing. He noticed Arthur and the others doing the same. Privately he wondered when they had arrived, but put it out of his mind, when Bors stepped forward threatening and said dangerously, "If I **EVER** catch you or anyone else saying those evil words again to **ANY** of the children, I will kill you myself, brother or no. Do you understand me Tor?"

Before Tor answered, Habren stepped forward and said calmly as she put forth a serene aura, "Enough, Tor will apologize to the children in the morning. I promise you this, Lord Bors. As the Princess of the Lion Tribe, on my honor, I promise you this."

She saw the surprised look on the older man, smiled softly, and said more warmly, "I do not think like the others, and since I have a higher authority over him, he **WILL** apologize. Every child is a wonderful gift from the Gods-no matter what blood runs through their veins."

She smiled in relief when the large Knight nodded and backed away revealing the one man she desperately wanted to talk to-Lancelot.

Lancelot eyed his sister and sighed. With his shoulders sagging slightly, he said, "Hello, Runt. It has been a long time."

He watched his sister's eyes light up at his old childhood name for her and then darken slightly. She marched right up to him and slapped him hard across the face.

He didn't react at all. Truthfully, he had expected the slap-she learned from their mother, Queen Ama, very well.

"Why didn't you return home!" she demanded once she got close. Before he could answer, she was in his arms crying tears of joy.

Despite himself, he closed his eyes and hugged her tight. The last time he had seen her, she had only been five years old. Now she was a beautiful woman of twenty-five summers. If he had any regrets about not returning to Sarmatia, it was only that he had missed her entire life there and felt like an outsider to his own flesh and blood.

When they pulled apart, he replied, "I stayed because I couldn't leave Arthur and Emogen. I just couldn't see how I could live my life without them in it. So, I decided to stay. I was going to go and visit for a short time but…"

He watched Habren's eyebrow go up, saw that Tarkan and two more men-vaguely familiar to him-reach her side, as she prodded, "But…"

He was relieved to feel Arthur behind him, and he nearly collapsed when his wife, Emogen, placed a supporting hand on his forearm, as he said, "The twins and Cadman prevented me from traveling very far from home."

"Twins? Cadman? Who are they?" asked Tarkan with a light, friendly voice.

Lancelot smiled ruefully at his younger brother as Emogen answered for him gently, "Lord Tarkan, Lady Habren, they are your nieces and your nephew by blood."


	3. Chapter 3

This chapter will take on many and I mean **MANY** points of views. And some of the subtler problems of the story will be started in this chapter. 

Reunion 3

Habren and her older brother, Tarkan, blinked and turned to one another in awe and shock. _Mother wasn't going to like this one bit!_ They thought as one. Their mother, Queen Ama of the Lion Tribe, had been the most supportive of Lancelot's marriage to the Wolf Princess, Agrimpasa, after all. She couldn't believe that her older brother was now a father of **THREE** children. He must have been extremely blessed by the Gods to have such fertility in only five years.

Habren smiled to herself as she stared at her, **apparently**, new sister-n-law. _Emogen's stance shows a gentle elegance, and her aura is much like my own. Lady Emogen, my brother's wife, is a serene woman who knows how to traverse the wilds of the world of politics like a master._

Emogen felt Lancelot's sister's eyes on her and matched Habren's stare with equal serenity. She placed her hand in Lancelot's elbow and said sweetly, "Perhaps, you'd like to meet the children. That way, Lord Tor can properly apologize to his nieces?"

Habren's smile widened as she thought _Oh yes, she **WILL** be a wonderful opponent!_

Tarkan replied in her stead, "Yes, that would be great! So, Lancelot, how old are your children?"

Tarkan was amazed. His brother was acting differently from what he remembered of him. Granted, he was only eight when Lancelot was taken twenty years ago, but he did remember a lot from that time in his life. His brother was never one for political practices, and he always tried to act silly while he was training with their father, Babai. To see his brother, so involved in the politics of this Kingdom was definitely not what he had been expecting. Then there was the fact that his brother was dressed up like rich nobility. His brother had **ALWAYS** told his father and mother that the clothes that he had to wear at the faulty council meetings were scruffy and impractical for their lives. He swore up and down that he'd **NEVER** wear formal clothes! Yet, here was his brother in formal, impractical, **ELEGANT** clothes and he looked right at home in them. His brother was definitely not acting like what he'd expected him to. This would take more thought, but first _NEICES AND NEPHEW!_

Lancelot watched his younger siblings and bit his lip. They looked a bit shell shocked, and to be honest, he could understand why. He wasn't acting like the silly, egotistical teenager that they no doubt remembered. He shook his head, that Lancelot was long gone. He had died when the Roman's came, and he was forced to grow up very quickly to survive in the new world he found himself in twenty years ago-Briton. He saw their eyes lighten up and, the First Knight breathed a bit easier as he answered with a proud beaming smile, "The twins, Erlina and Enid, are four years and four months old. My son and heir, Cadman, is a year and four months old."

He grin grew even larger when Habren said excitedly, "Let's go then! I can't wait to meet them!"

Atilla had been watching the interactions of the Lion Tribe heirs with disgust. To him the Lions were the weakest link in their superior races beliefs. He was enraged at his Gods for allowing the Lions to have the best fighting abilities of all eleven tribes. It was only because the Lion Tribe produced the best fighters that allowed them the honor and power of the royal tribe. _How they can like and or tolerate half-breeds and people not of our pure Sarmatian blood is beyond me? _He thought in revulsion. He felt sorry for Tor because Habren would force him to apologize to two mongrels.

He snorted at Princess Habren's excitement at meeting three half-breed mongrels and stepped in with an important air, and exclaimed superiorly, "**PRINCESS HABREN**, I am ashamed by your actions! You're bother, the C**ROWN PRINCE** of our most powerful tribe, has married himself off to a whoring British piece of trash and you are supporting this by wanting to meet his mongrel children!"

Many of the other Sarmatians were grunting and yelling their support of Attila's words.

_This is not going well at all._ Thought Tarkan darkly as most of the Sarmatians, who supported mixed marriages, remained silent.

Tarkan bit his lip as his brother-n-law, Habren's husband, Melean (Mel-e-in), stepped forward and said loudly, "**_SILENCE ALL OF YOU!_**"

The entire Sarmatian court became silent very fast; Habren smiled at her husband. He was an excellent politician, and knew how to control the flow of discussion well between the Sarmatians.

The hall was so silent that the double zings of Lancelot's Twin Sarmatian Demon Blades as they were pulled from his sheaths, were unmistakable.

The Knights and their wives were silent. They knew this was Lancelot and or Arthur's field of battle. Their King and First Knight were the only two trained in such diplomacy. It was hard as hell, but they'd remain silent, but alert. Each Knight smiled grimly as they fingered their weapons-out of sight of the Sarmatians of course!

The Knights watched silently, but with sharp, protective eyes as Emogen and Cordelia, their Lady of Peace and their Queen, bit their lips and move to stand behind their husbands. They knew that no matter how much they wanted to say something, the Knights knew that the two women knew Arthur, and more importantly, Lancelot, had to deal with the Sarmatians. _He does have more experience with them after all._ They thought proudly but tiredly. But, the women would show their support nonetheless with pride. These two men were their family and nothing gets in the way of family-nothing. Not even family from the past.

Lancelot was incensed. _How dare that old fool call my wife and children those names!_ He felt a dark rage come up from the deepest corners of his mind as he thought _I'll show him why **I'M** the First Knight and second best fighter in all of Briton! I'll show him just how weak and vulnerable he truly is. No one speaks of my friends and family like that-not even the people of my past. _

Lancelot placed the two blades at Attila's throat and said hotly but amazingly enough, it also sounded calm-like to everyone in the hallway, "My **WIFE**, as you so hideously put it, My Lord Attila, is **NOT** a whore nor is she a piece of British trash. Also, my children are **NOT** mongrels; they were born in purity and not in wedlock. My tribe, the most powerful of the eleven tribes, as you've so recently and arrogantly announced, accepts mixed marriages-this you know well. If my mother or my father-for that matter-have problems with my children, their **GRANDCHILDREN**, they can go to hell for all I care. Besides, I live here in Briton now. My home is here. I will not return to Sarmatia to marry Agrimpasa or whoever my mother wants me too. If you utter one more word of filth about any of our children, so help me you will not live to see the Steppes of Sarmatia again. Do you understand me?"

He shrugged internally to himself and added _I won't kill him, I won't kill him, I won't kill him…it'll serve me nothing but trouble later on._

Lancelot sighed as Arthur squeezed his shoulder in approval. He immediately calmed down. It amazed him that Emmy and Arthur could do that so easily even after all these years. Not even his parents could contain his rage when it showed it's self when he was a child.

The Sarmatians were shocked once again-Habren most of all. Her brother had just threatened the life of one of their Tribal Leaders! _Mother and Father will not be pleased with his actions regarding the **"Rules of Engagement"**, _(the process of how to interact with other Tribal Leaders). But, she also felt a clump of fear settle in her belly. If her brother did not return, there would be no wedding to unite the Wolf and the Lion Tribes. The consequences of this would be great. She, for a moment, forgot that her brother was already happily married and had three children. In that moment, she forgot the Lion Tribe's most important law: **_if a Sarmatian man is married to a woman of non-Sarmatian blood and is blessed with children, only the death of the wife can nullify the marriage._**

Tarkan couldn't believe his eyes or his ears. His elder brother, whom he had adored all his life, was not coming home! But his place was in Sarmatia! _I don't care about Lancelot marring a Briton or having children with her. I also know mother and father won't either once they calm down_. Their parents would just be happy to have Lancelot home, and Ama would be ecstatic to have grandbabies to spoil and tell stories too. He just **HAD** to convince his brother to come home! He **MUST!** He wouldn't leave without his older brother. Not only would his mother skin him alive for **NOT** bringing Lancelot home, she'd force him to marry Agrimpasa in Lancelot's place. _No matter how much I love my brother, I refuse to marry that btch and whore! _

Arthur had, had enough. He placed a strong hand on his friend's shoulders and said, "Lance, put the swords down. I think you've made your point. Sir Randolph…"

The long forgotten announcer, jumped to attention and cried out, "Yes, your Majesty!"

Arthur nodded and said, "I think we all need to calm down before this becomes a fight to the death. Will you continue to take them to their chambers?"

Sir Randolph nodded and asked, "Should I bring in Sirs Morton, Alrec, Brenden, and Marc?"

Arthur shook his head and said, "No, just take them to their chambers. Tell them were they can access the public places, and then, when they are settled bring Lady Habren, Lord Tarkan, and those of similar beliefs to **The Circle**. There they will meet the children should they wish it."

Sir Randolph nodded and said sharply, "Yes sir! Right now, all of you follow me!"

Habren looked sadly at her brother and walked away. This was not how she imagined how her meeting with her brother would go.

Galahad spoke up, "Was that such a good idea Arthur? To have them come to our chambers? What if…"

Arthur cut in, "I said to bring them to our Circle not to our chambers. They will meet the children in the Hall of Justice."

Alma hugged herself and said, "I don't like it. I don't trust them Arthur. What if they hurt the children? Despite the words of our husbands, most of them seem to think like that horrible Attila."

Gawain placed his arms around his wife and said soothingly, "Don't worry, Briana and Belaya will remain by our side through it all. I won't even let Agrimpasa touch them unless they are in my arms."

Arthur turned to Lancelot and asked, "Well…?"

Lancelot sighed and said warily, "This is not going well at all Arthur. Plus, it'll only get worse, I fear. There is only so much Habren and Tarkan can do. I think we should just send them on their way to Hadrian's Wall, let them see the graves, and then boot them off the island as fast as we can. What they do next is up to them. I…I just don't care right now."

He stood straight and said as he stared into Arthur's eyes, "No one, and I mean, no one says those awful things about my family and gets away with it Arthur. No one."

He turned to his wife and as he pulled her close asked, "Are you alright, my maiden?"

He felt Emogen sigh against him and said, "I will be. But, Lance, please, don't ruin this for them all. Your tribesman seemed like they truly wanted to meet the children. At least let your tribesmen meet our children."

Lancelot sighed. He didn't know what to do. _I want Habren and Tarkan to meet the twins and Cadman, but there is always the possibility that one of the haters could get close to them. What should I do…oh why did these Sarmatians have to come crawling here! Why couldn't they have just remained in Sarmatia?_

Agrimpasa, fraternal twin sister of Galahad and younger sister of Gawain, was steaming silently to herself as she followed the others up an absurd amount of stairs. She impatiently swiped her curly blond hair out of her face, and glared at her SUPPOSED sister-n-law. _How will I gain the honor and prestige of Clan Lion if I cannot marry Prince Lancelot? Mother ruined me for anyone else when she made me sleep with that horrible Clatus when I was ten. Lancelot's destined to be **MY** husband! Not that British louse's! How could he do this to me! He **KNEW** we were to be married upon his return! How could he stay here in this horrible place and marry that ugly, fat cow? _

She stopped momentarily and looked into a mirror that was hanging on the wall near her. _I mean, what's not to like about me? I'm tall, strong willed, I know how to fight like the women of old, I am beyond gorgeous, and I have natural female instincts. What more could he want? That btch that holds him is ugly, has fat around her middle for the love of the Gods, **AND** I bet she can't fight like I can! Just what does Lancelot see in her? _

Agrimpasa was shaken out of her thoughts, by Habren's shrieking voice, "Agrimpasa, come one! Don't lag behind!"

Agrimpasa growled and glared at the more powerful princess. _Just once, just once I'd like to grab her tiny neck and squeeze it for all I'm worth. That'd teach her to not order **ME**, High Princess of the Wolf Tribe and betrothed of High Crown Prince Lancelot, future **Queen** of the Lion Tribe, around like some common waif!_

Another member of the Wolf Tribe, Garen, cousin of Gawain, Galahad, and Agrimpasa, was walking calmly beside his cousin and glanced at her worriedly when she growled. He knew this was going to get ugly, and he wasn't even including the whole mess with Tor and the others that supported him and his ideals. Agrimpasa had become an evil, ugly person as the years went by. He should know; he had stood by her as she transformed right before his eyes. He blamed his aunt, Queen Malana of the Wolf Tribe. She had poisoned his sweet cousin into becoming this ugly woman-like creature. She did this because she, his aunt, wanted absolute power. Agrimpasa was nothing more than a tool his aunt was using to gain the power of the Lion Tribe. He sighed. He hoped Agrimpasa would control herself when they met Gawain and Galahad's family.

He was honestly happy for his cousins. He was happy that they lived through the entire fifteen years of Roman servitude, found love and happiness, and had children. His only sadness was that his brother, Gareth, was no longer alive. _I don't need to visit the graves of the fallen Knights. I now know, that if he isn't here in Camelot as a Lord now, he is dead. _

Agrimpasa frowned as she thought, _I must gain Lancelot's favor! But how can I do that? He's married and has children! But…yes, that might work. I could flirt with him and make his sweet **British** wife, mad! Then they'll fight right in front of their **precious** babies and she'll run off and cry like the weak btch she is! _She grinned evilly and added happily to herself as she entered a large room; _After all, he couldn't have changed very much in twenty years. Once a flirt, always I flirt I say!' _

Lancelot sighed again and pulled his wife away and said, "Sir Morton! Will you go to the Circle of Wings and escort Lady Fulucina, Lady Blythe, and the children into the Hall of Justice. And make sure that the twins hold their tongues until the visitors make the first offense."

He saw, out of the corner of his eye, Arthur smiling at him proudly. He couldn't help but feel a thrill go through him at that. He had always done everything in his power to make Arthur proud of him. He snorted and thought _I guess, even with age, I still can't help but crave his approval and smiles._

Bors patted him on the back and said while chuckling, "You handled that a bit badly Lance. You acted like me there for a little bit! I mean, aren't ya supposed ta be the smart, diplomatic one?"

He rolled his eyes and restated firmly, "No one says those things about my family, Bors, no one."

He saw Bors' eyes darken in agreement to his words and stood straighter. This was no time to show how he felt about their visitors. It was time to fight fire with fire. If the Tribesmen of the Bear and Horse were going to shout their way across this battlefield, and tell them of their plans so easily, he'd fight right back by using their own words against them. After all, he's had enough practice these past twenty years.

Arthur nodded and said, "Well then, lets go to the Round Table. Once there we'll discuss how to send the Sarmatians on their way. I'm sure Sir Randolph will escort our visitors the long way around, so we'll have enough time."

The Knights smiled evilly at their King's words. The castle, while most would think it to be oddly built, actually had a reason for it's odd configuration. It was meant to confuse the visitors that they felt had wronged them. It was also a way to show their courage to all others. After all, most Kingdoms's had their nobles and royalty living in the highest point of the castles. With how the castle was built, their Wings were on the first floor and easily accessible to anyone who needed them. Their inner chambers, their bed chambers, and the children's rooms, were more heavily protected and only those who knew the right combination could open the heavy iron doors once they had been shut.

"So, how will we get them to the Wall without to much fuss?" asked Tristran as he squeezed Ula's hand.

When they were alone, Habren spun around and pointed an angry finger at Atilla and said, "How **DARE** you! It's because of you that Lancelot acted the way he did! How are we supposed to bring our sons home, when they see how you and Tor act to those they love!"

Atilla, a sixty-two-year old man, carelessly brushed the long feminine finger way from his chest, and said crossly, "They shouldn't have mingled with the filth that live here in the first place, Princess."

Tarkan placed a hand on his sister's shoulder and said strongly, "Atilla, you maybe the Leader of Tribe Horse, but **WE** are the leaders here-not you."

He added, "Our people are dying, Atilla, without more blood to add into our own lines, we will soon cease to exist. Why can't you see that!"

Atilla took a step forward and said pompously, "The Sarmatians are a strong, proud, race! We've withstood the demons of Rome; none can hurt us now! All we need to do, is take the Knights home and **MAKE** them sire more sons to bring our people back to the greatness they once were!"

Miskoc, another of Dagonet's Tribe, but a friend of Dagonet's instead of a rival, stated, "You are as delusional as the Romans are. We **ARE** dying out, and it's because of how our tribe and the Bear tribe think. The Lion, Wolf, Panther, and Snake tribes are thinking correctly, not us. It's through the accepting beliefs of their tribes that we **WILL** survive, no matter how small our people will be."

At Miskoc's words, many of the tribesmen of other tribes the supported the Bear and Horse Tribes, became silent. To hear one of the Horse Tribesmen admit, **out loud**, that the beliefs of his people were wrong was a startling thought.


	4. Chapter 4

This chapter will focus more on Habren's reactions to the Kingdom of Camelot as a whole. This is the first of many when the Sarmatians will question their beliefs and what they thought to be true.

Reunion 4

Habren couldn't help but genuinely smile at the older man. Miskoc's admittance to his tribe's folly was exactly the response she had been hoping for the entire time.

When the council met many years ago to discuss why Rome hadn't returned their sons, they had been incensed to discover that Rome had wiped their hands clean of Briton and all the other outlaying lands. The Sarmatian people were enraged because for centuries it had been the blood of the Sons of Sarmatia that protected Rome's interest on the frigid island. To them, that was the biggest slap in the face. For more than two hundred years, their sons, their loved ones, their people had been persecuted and enslaved to protect that cold piece of rock, and when the times were hard, Rome was turning their backs on them. Their very hearts and souls had been protecting that piece of rock for generations, and Rome just left it to the Saxons to destroy!

Later, when their anger had cooled off, an air of excitement had overrun the whole countryside. Their sons were to come home! Fifteen years had come and gone, and their sons, their princes, would finally come home to their families they left behind. All of them had waited with belated breath for more then four months. As the fourth month waned, fear started to set in. She remembered her father and mother talking in hushed tones over the course of three months about why their sons had not returned. Her father said it was because they were still young men newly freed. He tried to explain to his wife, Ama, what they felt like. He had told her that it felt like a huge weight had been lifted from your heart and soul. That it was like a blackness that had settled on their souls at the beginning, had finally given way to the light of freedom. To finally be free from fifteen years of endless bloodshed was an exhilarating feeling. Habren remembered her father chuckling and ended, _Lancelot and the other survivors are probably out traveling around the plains of whatever country they are in. They are finally free to make their own choices and they are taking complete control of their lives by seeing all they can before they are forced to marry when they return. I don't blame them…I did the same-remember?_

Habren smiled. Her mother had remembered. In fact, her mother had, had to wait an additional five months for Babai to return to Sarmatia. After that, the excitement and fear dwindled as the people of Sarmatia realized that their sons were coming home, slowly traveling home for sure, but home was their true destination.

Habren bit her lip as she remembered the fear and anger that blanketed the people of the eleven tribes a year after the established fifteen had finished. For sixteen years, not one son had returned to them. She remembered the emergency council meetings that had followed. The tribes were beside themselves with fear and rage. Surely, of the fifty sons that had been sent to Briton for Rome, at least some had survived! Her father had been the chosen one to talk to the Roman's still stationed near their lands. When Babai returned, his news wasn't what they expected.

Babai had told the council, that Rome no longer controlled the island of Briton. In fact, the last missive that the Romans had pertaining to Briton dealt with information about Saxons moving steadily through the northern portion of the island. With that piece of information, the council put together the true story-in their eyes at least. Rome's enemies were so many, that the Empire couldn't safely protect the outlaying lands such as Briton, Gaul, Spaniard, and the Northern part of Africa and still adequately protect Rome herself. With their enemies encircling the Empire, Rome had to remove itself from all the outlaying posts and leave it to _'God'_, as it were. Their sons must have been forced by their **ROMAN** commander to stay and protect the helpless villagers of Briton. That was why their sons had not returned.

When two more years rolled by, the Elders were beside themselves with worry. Without the eldest sons of the tribes, their royal bloodlines would deteriorate! So it was decided that a group of Sarmatians would travel to Briton to find out just what had happened to their sons.

She had been adamant about going too. She had to wheedle her father, but she won in the end. Just as they were about to leave, the Huns attacked them. Their plans to go to Briton had to be placed on hold as they fought and recovered from the attacks. And still, their numbers dwindled. They had to wait one more year before they could leave because of the funeral ceremonies and an unlucky bout of weather.

Habren shook her head and tried to shake those thoughts out of her mind. The council apparently was wrong. Their sons weren't forced to stay-they **CHOSE** to.

Atilla was mad. No, more than mad, he was drowning in rage. How **DARE** this man, this **SUPPORTER** of Dagonet, talk back to him, the **HIGH TRIBAL LEADER OF THE HORSE TRIBE!** _I shouldn't have brought him here with me. I knew it was folly to bring Miskoc, but he **IS** nearly my equal in strength and power-politically. I thought that by bringing him here, I could persuade him to my side of things, now I see that, that is folly. He will forever be by Dagonet's side._

"Our people's beliefs aren't wrong! **WE** are in the right! **WE** are the strong ones! **WE WILL** bring Sarmatian back to its former glory!" snarled the older man as many of the Sarmatians started to murmur to themselves about the current state of events.

Habren smiled as she heard some of the mutterings **_If the Knights, the princes of our people, can mate and sire those not of pureblood, maybe there is some strength in those not of Sarmatia…Could Miskoc be right?… Are we just deluding ourselves?… Have we truly fallen so far that we are being likened to the ROMANS of all people?_ **

Then she frowned as the mutterings from those who believed and supported Atilla were heard _**Atilla is right! Our people are strong!… Our sons MUST be returned no matter what it takes!… These half-breed mongrels must be taken care of. They can't be brought back to Sarmatia!… They'll sully the bloodlines of our purest families!** _

Habren frowned. It was true. Some of the families of Sarmatia would kill off their own heirs because they feared they weren't of pureblood. She had seen such acts herself many years ago as a teenager. Luckily, her tribe was above such barbaric tendencies. _But, _she thought with a bit of desperation _if we continue as we are, we'll die out! Our bloodlines are being crossed to many times to be healthy! Gods above! I mean Ilona of the Panther Tribe married Burdin of the Cheetah Tribe-they are second cousins! She gave birth to a son who looks **EXACTLY** like how Tristran looked like as a child according to Ilona. That's just not right! Plus, as mean as it sounds, I think he's not all right up there in his head. He's a bit slow when it comes to thinking for himself and he's nearing ten now! I'm so glad that Ilona forbad Burdin from touching her after that! Maybe while we're here, we can further our campaign along and hopefully change many of my people's beliefs._

Before the group could truly get into a fight, the doors opened and a loud clanging was heard. Startled, the Sarmatian spun around and came face-to-face with a man dressed in black leather boots, nice leg-hugging cotton black breaches, a black belt, a white wrap shirt with a black vest with the shield of Camelot over his heart, and a metal staff in his hand. He was different from Sir Randolph. This man was somehow more confident in his abilities.

Habren stepped forward and asked serenely, "Can we help you, my lord?"

Habren wanted to startle the messenger by complimenting him; she was horribly mistaken. Sir Morton, one of the palace guards, was even more stoic than Lord Tristran himself and that was saying something. Too bad Habren didn't know that.

Sir Morton stared at her for a brief moment then turned him eyes to the gathered group of Sarmatians. Habren was a little unnerved. His stare felt like a judge's, and she felt like she had just passed some sort of test in which she had no clue as to what the test was comprised of. She breathed a bit easier when he said blandly, "You, and those you trust to keep their mouths closed, are to be escorted to the Hall of Justice where King Arthur and his court will entertain you. You are to bring Lord Tor, as well. Follow me."

Habren bit her lip and said quickly, "Tarkan, Pappy, Melean, Agravine, Garen, Tanais, Tor, Miskoc, and Agrimpasa shall come with me. The others will stay here."

She met Ilona's stare evenly and with her eyes told the Panther Princess to watch out for any grievances. Ilona nodded gravely. Habren smiled. That was one of the reasons she and Ilona got along; they could hold entire conversations with their eyes. Plus, Ilona also knew, that she'd get to see her brother, Tristran, later on when things had calmed down some.

Sir Morton didn't comment but turned on his heel and walked away. Habren knew he expected them to follow, so she quickly walked out after him.

While this was going on, Arthur said in finality, "So, tomorrow morning, after breakfast, we will inform the Sarmatians that the Knights they seek are resting at Hadrian's Wall. We'll escort them there and let them do what they will from there on?"

Dagonet said as the large double doors opened, "That will do, for now."

The announcer stood tall and announced, "Announcing! Lady Fulucina Lady Hors, of the House of Hors, Head Chef and Royal Caretaker of Camelot! Along with Lady Imogene Hors, daughter of Lord Dagonet Monies Hors and Lady Fulucina Lady Hors of the House of Hors!"

Dagonet couldn't help but grin as his wife and daughter entered the Hall of Justice. As the ex-roman woman sat beside her husband, Dagonet gently took his three-month-old daughter from his wife's arms and asked, "Where are Alec and Lucus?"

Fulucina smiled at her giant-like husband and answered, "They are coming with the others from training practice."

She turned to Lancelot and added with a grin, "Caoimhe and Dierdre are a bit angry at you Lance, they wanted to train today and what with you sending them to the commons…"

Lancelot grimaced but replied, "I'll make it up to them when they arrive. I'm sure Sir Randolph is just now getting our visitors to their chambers. We still have at least an hour in which to spend practicing. Are they dressed in their Pict training gear?"

Before Fulucina could answer, two young female voices were heard chirping together, "You bet we are uncle!"

The First Knight looked up and smiled. The children of Camelot were all there-including Alec, Gilly, and the other older children.

Lancelot laughed a bit and said as he stood up and pulled out his two swords, "You two aren't that mad at me I take it?"

As the oldest twins of the castle pulled out their own swords, the eldest, Caoimhe, grinned and said, "Nah, we knew why we weren't goin' ta practice today, but we still changed anyways just in case."

Arthur stood up and said with a smile, "Let's make this interesting, how about you three go at it on the Round Table. It can be good balance training for you girls."

Lancelot grinned and easily hopped up onto the table. The Ladies of Camelot quickly maneuvered their children to the walls, and sat them down to watch the training exercise. As amazing as it sounded, every child sat down and watched with wide eyes as the twins daughters of Lord Bors and Lady Vanora, battled it out with Lord Lancelot.

Lancelot grinned roguishly at the two and they giggled. Then their faces blanked out, and Lancelot knew they were ready. As he swung as them with his swords, he made a metal note to himself, _I need to have them start training with Tristran. They need to know how to black their faces without looking like they are._

Bors watched with a great swell of paternal pride as his daughters battled their _'funny'_ uncle, Lancelot. For only having seven to eight years of training, his daughters were quickly mastering all the skills Lancelot and Galahad could teach them. He grinned as his daughter, Dierdre, unlocked swords with Lancelot and ran in the opposite direction on the table. He chuckled as Lancelot blinked and grinned. He knew that Lancelot also felt pride for his daughters as they started to fight the First Knight with a cunning that was absent form their fights until now.

Lancelot couldn't help the grin that escaped his control as Dierdre came at him from the right. He found himself having to use his swords individually against the twins on equal grounds, and found it exhilarating because his attention was split between the two fights.

Arthur chuckled as the three fighters danced across the Round Table. The twins were a bit shaky on the Table, but they were still able to fight effectively. The only thing Lancelot had going in his favor was the fact that he wasn't taking the fight seriously and he **DID** have nearly twenty years of experience on the twins.

The Knights smiled at the three-Galahad most of all. These two were some of the better fighters from the younger groups. Galahad wished the palace painter, Bevan, was here to capture the scene on canvass. The scene of Dierdre on the far right of the Round Table fighting Lancelot, who was in the middle, and Caoimhe on the far left also fighting Lancelot at the same time was awing. Galahad chuckled and thought _Lucky for Lance he's Ambidexious!_

The fight lasted another thirty minutes, before Arthur called it to end. Bors laughed and helped his daughters down all the while cheering, "Well done! Well done!"

As Lancelot reached his family, his own twins, Erlina and Enid, latched onto his legs and looked up at his with wide adoring green eyes. He groaned. He knew exactly what that meant-his twins **REALLY** wanted something and he was not going to like what it is. He smiled wryly and glanced at his wife. Her own twinkling emerald green orbs stared back at him as she shifted their son in her arms. _They certainly learned from her well on how to get what they want from me. _

"Daddy! Daddy! When can we start learnin' to fight?"

He groaned and said as he picked them up, "Soon my loves, soon enough. You still have a bit more growing up to do."

Enid pouted and Lancelot watched as her green eyes grew large and watery. He chuckled silently to himself as her puppy dog eyes grew to large proportions.

He grinned down at her and said, "That's not going to work, my emerald! You must wait until you are seven at least before your mother and I will start to train you. You are still to tiny my love."

Erlina twirled her fingers through his curly hair and added in a tiny pout, "But that's…that's…ah…"

She had to stop and count on her fingers for a second. Lancelot and Emogen smiled proudly at her. Erlina was one of the most intelligent girls in the castle. They were so proud of her.

She blinked and continued happily but still pouted, "That's two years more ta wait daddy!"

Lancelot threw his head back and laughed as he said, "Yes, that's right, my princess! Good job!"

Erlina beamed happily at him and he felt another swell of love and pride rush through him. These were his children-his own flesh and blood. He had helped to create these three wonderful creatures. He didn't care how much his past pushed him; he will never ever leave them to live without him in their lives. Not only would it harm them in many ways, but also it would kill him to not see them everyday of their lives.

Before anyone could say anything else, the large doors to the Round Table opened with a loud bang and the announcer, Sir Morton, said loudly, "Announcing, the Sarmatians!"

Very quickly, the Knights and their wives took their seats at the Round Table, and their children took their places by the wall behind Arthur, Cordelia, Lancelot, and Emogen.

Cordelia stood up and said gently, "Welcome Sons and Daughters of Sarmatia to the Hall of Justice and behold the Round Table."

Habren looked up at the queen's gentle command and gasped. She couldn't believe what her eyes were telling her. She quickly glanced around her and saw that the others were as shocked as she was. They had been expecting a rectangular table with King Arthur and Queen Cordelia at the head of it with the others seated lower than they at other tables in the room. What they saw was amazing. A Round Table reminisce of the Council Circle of Sarmatia stared back at the Sarmatian visitors. Standing at their seats, the court of King Arthur was a site to see and an imitating one.

Habren looked around the room as well. The three walls she could see were covered with tapestries, paintings, windows, and weapons. The walls were tall and vaulted at the top with dark oak beams supporting the ceilings weight. The wall to her left had five windows with iron bars crisscrossed across it making the setting sun splinter off creating dancing shadows around the floor, which was covered in an elegant rug made with silks and cottons. In between the windows at the top were paintings depicting four Knights astride four wonderful warhorses. The Knight to the far left was the lion-like blond, Lord Gawain. The one in the center to the left was her brother Lancelot. The next one was King Arthur himself. The last Knight was the youngest of the all, Lord Galahad. Under each picture weapons were mounted. The weapons were the Knights most favored weapons of choice. Under Gawain was a doubled bladed axe. Under Lancelot were two identical swords crossed in the middle. Under Arthur's was a sword that looked exactly like his legendary Excalibur, and under Galahad's was a Sarmatian doubled bladed sword. Framing all of that were two tapestries. The one on the far left depicted Sarmatia's rolling green Steppes and the one on the far right depicted Briton's equally green, if not greener, rolling hills.

The back wall, the one she was facing, had three tall windows, also barred off for design and protection, and many shields. In the very center of the wall, surrounded by every other shield, was a dark blue and golden shield. The upper left portion of the shield was dark blue, the upper right part of the shield was gold, the bottom left side of the shield was gold, and the bottom right hand side of the shield was dark blue. In the center of the shield was a beautiful white castle with a steel colored sword, Excalibur, mounted in front of the castle. It was also the largest shield hanging from the wall.

The next shield, off to the right of the royal shield, was just a bit smaller and painted green and silver. She had a hint that this shield belonged to her brother's family. Just like with the royal shield, it was cut into four parts with the upper left side painted emerald green, the upper right side painted silver, the lower left side painted silver, and the lower right side painted emerald green. In the centers of the four parts was a golden lion's head, to show allegiance to Arthur-she supposed. Behind the roaring lion that had its claws out were two crossed swords-his Twin Demons.

Going up from there, was a shield cut into four pieces that were painted a dark yellow (tan) and bronze. In the center of the shield was a golden wolf with its claws out ready for war and it mouth wide open in a silent roar. Behind the wolf was a double bladed axe.

The next shield was very similar to the last one. Except where the last shield was dark yellow (tan) and bronze, this one was a light blue and bronze. Like the last one, this shield also had a golden wolf engraved in the center with it claws our ready for war and it's mouth open in a silent roar.

The fifth shield she looked at was exactly above the royal families shield. It was cut into four pieces and painted a dark purple, nearly black color, and bronze. In the center of the shield was a golden panther with its claws extended and it's sharp eyes piercing ahead of it. Behind the panther was a Sarmatian bow and arrow.

The next one was painted in a slightly different way. It was still cut into four pieces, but the upper left hand side of the shield was split again in half with the left side painted black and the right side painted white, the upper right hand side of the shield was painted bronze and the lower left hand side of the shield was painted bronze too. Lastly, the lower right hand side of the shield was again cut in half and the right side was painted white and the left side was painted black. In the center of the shield was a golden man with his arms crossed. Habren looked closer and saw the man had on his arms two-forearm knives.

Next, the shield opposite the dark yellow (tan) and bronze one was a shield painted red and bronze. To prove his loyalty to Arthur, she supposed, emblazoned in the center of the shield was a golden horse. Behind the horse was a pair of crossed arrows.

Habren noticed that the other shields were slightly smaller than her brother's but not by much. In fact, if she hadn't been looking for the slight difference, even she wouldn't have seen the size differences!

Then there was the shield opposite her brother's. It was colored bronze and tans with a group of golden men in the center all carrying Arrows.

The next shield, under the others was bronze and dark green. In the center of this shield were a golden large sword, golden axe, and a golden arrowhead. The three weapons were piled one on top of the other. It is a rather interesting piece.

Lastly, opposite that one, just under her brother's and the King's shield was a shield cut into four pieces. The upper left hand side was painted a burnt orange; the upper right hand side was painted bronze, and the lower left side was painted bronze too. The lower right side was painted burnt orange as well. In the center of the shield was a golden set of balances. On the left balance was a square with bars down it. On the right side was a feather floating freely above the balance.

Habren smiled. These shields told a lot about the court of King Arthur.

Lastly, the other wall on the right; it was nearly identical to the one on the left. The windows were in the same places and in between each window was a painting of a Knight upon his warhorse and underneath him was his weapon of choice. To the far right was Tristran and underneath him was his bow and arrow. Next was Dagonet upon his own dark brown Sarmatian warhorse, and under him was his large battle double bladed axe. To the center left was Bors on his warhorse, and under him were two replicas of his forearm knives. Lastly, was a man, who looked rather comely, and he was sitting on an older horse, but Habren could still see a few more years left in the old gray eyes-under this comely knight, was a long sword. The tapestries that framed the pictures and weapons were very beautiful too. On the far right was a glorious scene of Sarmatian horses running across the fields of Sarmatia. The other one was of Briton during the wintertime with children running and playing in the snow.

On a hunch, she turned slightly and saw even more paintings, but she didn't have the luxury to study them like she had with the others.

Lancelot stepped forward and said steadily, "Before we do anything, or let you come near our children, Sir Tor **MUST** apologize to his nieces."

Habren blinked and looked around. She was shocked to see nearly thirty children mulling about. She looked at the gathered Knights and blinked. There were ten Knights in the room, but only seven women. Habren shook her head in awe. One of these women must have had the Gods themselves impregnating her! _Logically, there is no way that thirty children can come from seven couples…right?_

But she pulled herself together and said serenely, "Yes, of course, Lord Tor, if you would be so kind as to offer apologizes to your beautiful, warrior, nieces."

She had to grin at that. It looked like girls had the option to learn how to fight here too if they liked. She didn't like it, but she was starting to get an idea as to why her brother and his friends didn't return to Sarmatia all those years ago.

The groups of Sarmatians watched as Lord Bors escorted two blonds forward, and watched as Tor gulped back his revulsion and step forward as well.


	5. Chapter 5

But be warned, the next chapter might take a while to write since it will be…well it'll be emotionally draining lets put it that way.

_**Pict language **Sarmatian language_

Reunion 5

Bors looked with a dark interest at his younger brother, and saw Tor's struggle to hide his revulsion towards his children. He snarled, but kept it well hidden. It was so well hidden, that only those who truly knew him, his brothers-**true brothers**-the Knights knew how mad he truly was. He also felt a burst of dark pride fill him as he finally saw his brother hide all the revulsion he had inside him for his daughters and the other children. It seemed like his brother had not learned the number one thing a true leader needed to learn-**how to hide his true feelings towards any and all things he or she hated and or liked. **

Bors tilted his head as Caoimhe placed her hands on her gently maturing hips and demanded a bit rudely, "Well?"

The Knights had to bit the inside of their cheeks as Dierdre mimicked the same stance, but she also added a very familiar foot tapping that reminded them all of a vexed Vanora. They turned towards the red-hared mother and saw her eyeing her twins with a pride only a mother could successfully express with only a few facial movements. They also saw their wives move to escort the little ones out quickly, if things got ugly and they all had to sternly remind themselves that this man, Tor, belonged to a tribe that killed innocent babes because they had the unfortunate luck of not being born of pure Sarmatian blood. They had to remind themselves that this man, their own brother's brother, has killed innocents in cold blood because their parents decided to have relations without taking the proper care of birth control.

Habren watched with narrow eyes as Tor stood tall and said calmly, "Lady Caoimhe, Lady Dierdre, Lord Bors, my brother and my nieces, I am sorry about my earlier words. They were said in the heat of madness that occurred because of the confusion I felt knowing that my older brother, whom I have idolized my entire life, was in fact still alive and not dead as I have thought for the last five years. Please forgive this old fool his mad words, and give me one more chance to prove my love to my brother's blood."

Tor bit the inside of his cheeks in nausea as the twin blonds beamed back at him. _I can't believe that they bought that waist of words!_ He glanced at his older brother and felt a bolt of fear rush through his body. While Bors' face showed only polite happiness, his eyes told a completely different story. In that one occurrence, Tor knew that his brother would indeed kill him if he so much as touched his half-nieces wrong. Then in the next instant, those bloody brown eyes that belonged to his brother vanished to reveal only calming embers of love as his half-nieces turned to their father and hugged him. Tor gulped and thought with dread racing through his veins _his eyes changed so quickly! If I hadn't been looking at them, I would have missed those murderous eyes of his. His control is amazing! Now I wonder, how will I know what he thinks if his emotions can be turned on and off like a Roman lies?_

Arthur stepped forward and opened his mouth to say something, but Bors cut him off, "Sir Morton, please escort my brother back to his chambers. I'm sure he's starving."

Arthur turned to one of his older Knights and blinked. Bors body was as relaxed as ever, but Arthur could see the barely hidden coiled muscles of his friend's back and shoulders. Bors was mad about something, and he had a good idea about why the fist-fighter was mad too. He, like all the other Knights and their wives, could tell that Tor's apology was a false one. Only the children, with the exception of Alec, believed in the apology.

Arthur cleared his throat and nodded to the guard. He bowed, took a step forward, and said clearly in a voice that tolerated no argument, "Sir Tor, come with me, my Lord."

Tor looked like he wanted to protest, but when the guard stealthy moved to grasp his sword's hilt, Tor's argument dissolved in his throat. Arthur smirked. Dean's idea seemed to be paying off. Every Sarmatian, when they reached the inner gates to the kingdom, had to remove all their weapons or they would have been denied entrance into Camelot. _Too bad Tor, you have no weapon in which to defend yourself if you put up too much of a fight._ Thought Arthur to himself in a singsong voice.

When the large double doors closed behind the two men, Lancelot stepped forward and said, "Habren and Tarkan, would you like to be introduced to your nieces and nephew?"

Habren smiled at him and eagerly came to his side. Tarkan and the other men beside her followed quickly as well. Lancelot frowned, the other men seemed very familiar somehow, but he couldn't explain just why they were.

Lancelot watched Emogen bring the twins forward and whisper something into their ears. Since he was so close, he could hear every word that had been said in Pict,**_ "Now, I want the both of you to introduce yourselves using the Sarmatian language."_**

Lancelot had to smile as the Pict language rolled off his wife's tongue. When they had married, one of her conditions a month into their marriage was for him to learn the language of her foremothers. In fact, he remembered with a small grimace, all of the Knights had to learn as their wives all threaten to make them sleep in their Sitting Chambers for as long as they protested to not learning the language. Coincidentally, the Knights of the Round Table, that did not have the aforementioned education-meaning all of them **EXCEPT **Arthur _bloody man had to know it since his mother was Pict!_, and quickly took up arms against the said enemy-Pict language-and barbarically overpowered it and gained a bloodless victory in a very short amount of time. Especially Bors, since he already had one threat hanging above his head at the time (see first story All Because of One to find out what that threat was).

His twin daughter nodded seriously at their mother, turned to his siblings, and Erlina stepped forward, curtsied politely as manners demanded and said sweetly in perfect Sarmatian, _"Hello, my name is Lady Erlina ' The Sun Princess' Lyon of the House of Lyon, daughter of Lord Lancelot Shieldguard Lyon of the House of Lyon and Lady Emogen Serenity Just-Lyon of the Houses Justice and Lyon and older sister of Lady Enid 'The Moon Emerald' Lyon and Lord Cadman Lyon, heir to the House of Lyon. It is nice to meet you Princess Habren of the Lion Tribe, also for your friends beside you and Prince Tarkan of the Lion Tribe. I welcome you to our Kingdom of Camelot._

Habren, Tarkan, Melean, and Pappy were shocked to hear pure Sarmatian come from the barely five-year-old lips. Since they believed that their brother would not have taught his children their birthrights as Sarmatians, it stunned them to their very cores. Plus, to come from such a young child, the manner of speech amazed them like no other. They could only nod as the one on the left stepped forward and added with the same level of maturely but with a bit more perkiness, "_Yes, welcome to Camelot! My name is Enid 'The Moon Emerald' Lyon of the House of Lyon, daughter of Lord Lancelot Shieldguard Lyon of the House of Lyon and Lady Emogen Serenity Just-Lyon of the Houses Justice and Lyon, and younger sister of Lady Erlina 'The Sun Princess' Lyon of the House of Lyon and older sister to Lord Cadman Lyon, heir to the House of Lyon."_

Lancelot smiled down at them with the love of a proud father and said to his still shell-shocked siblings, "Well, what do you think? Do they pass your tests? We have taught them Briton, Latin, Pict, and Sarmatian because we want them to have every advantage in this life. Just like father did the same for me, before I was sent to Briton."

Habren looked at her brother and nodded with a pleased smile. She bent down on her knees and said back in Sarmatian, _"You're level of understanding for our language is amazing for children so young. I am most please to meet you both, my nieces. You are both very beautiful. You take after your mother and your father equally."_

She looked up at her brother and added in Sarmatian as she assumed Emogen wouldn't understand, _"Mother will not be please since she wanted you to marry Agrimpasa, but she'll love your children. Your wife will have to prove her worth, you do know this right?"_

Lancelot bit the inside of his cheek and his wife placed a hand on his arm and replied back in Sarmatian calmly, _"I know of your Tribe's Laws. And when no, if we travel to Sarmatia, I will prove myself; and more to the tribe. But, since we are here and not there, please do not assume that I am ignorant of my own husband's language. As he has learned the language of my foremothers, I have learned the language of his ancestors."_

_This is a twist! I didn't expect Lancelot to teach his wife our language. Gods, I didn't even expect him to teach it to his children! This will definitely be interesting! _Tarkan blinked and chuckled as he said, "Well Lancelot, you've sure got a good life here. I can sort of understand why you didn't return home. But, mother will skin me alive if I don't,** at least**, bring you home for a visit! You won't let her do that to me, would you?"

_Perhaps I can get him home by gaiting him into going home…_

Lancelot smirked at him in understanding and said, "Not even for you would I leave my children, my wife, my friends, and brother for a trip to Sarmatia. Either I go and they come with me, or I stay here and you can drag mother's protesting body all the way here. Sorry Tarkan, but that's not going to work like it did when we were kids."

He saw his brother act like it was no big deal, what with a snap of his fingers and a comical shake of his head, but he knew that his little brother was serious. Tarkan wanted him home! No, his **MOTHER** wanted him home. With that in mind, he gulped at turned to the others to see how they were doing. All the while, he kept a firm eye on his family-both past and present. He eyed the unknown men once more and sighed in frustration _WHO ARE YOU!_

Agrimpasa, Garen, Agravine, and Tanais eagerly walked over to the brothers, Gawain and Galahad, but stopped abruptly when Galahad stepped forward and said shortly, "If anyone of you even dares to hurt our children's feelings, you'll wish for death-that I vow. Do you understand me?"

Agrimpasa stared at her fraternal twin in shock. Her older brothers were staring at her with a particular hatred, and she had no idea as to why they were mad at her. She frowned and thought in a bit of a panic _it's not like they know of my plans for Lancelot!_

Agrimpasa smiled sweetly at her brothers and said, "Galahad, Gawain, I'm surprised at you; you two who know me best! I'd never hurt a child! I love children!"

Galahad raised and eyebrow and said in a snort, "Yeah, right, Agrimpasa, twenty years may have passed but you are definitely the same. Just don't hurt my family."

Garen smiled at the warning and said, "Well said Galahad, it is well deserved too."

He turned to the brothers and said sincerely, "It's good to see you again cousins. Mother and Aunt Malana have been in tears nearly all the time since you decided to not come home. But, I can see that you found yourself two very beautiful ladies and have created a wonderful family. So, are you going to introduce me to them all, or will I have to do it myself?"

Gawain smiled at his cousin then frowned.

"Ah, Garen…about Gareth…"

Garen saw Galahad wince, so he said gently, "I understand. My big brother is dead, isn't he? I thought so. I mean, when we found out that the Lords of Camelot were the Sarmatian Knights, and when I didn't see him, or someone who looked like him, I had an inkling that he was dead. I mean I hoped it wasn't true, but it was a long shot hope anyways."

The group was silent as Agravine and Tanais bowed their heads in honor of the dead prince and other fallen Knights of Sarmatia.

Galahad had to bit his lip when Enys stepped forward with their eleven month old daughter and said gently, in a voice used when she was explaining to a patient just what was wrong with them, "Would you four like to meet our children now?"

Tanais smiled at the woman dressed in the same colors as his old childhood friend, light blue and bronze, and said, "We'd be honored!"

Galahad smiled. _Perhaps, this won't be as hard as I first thought._ So far, the tribesmen of his tribe had been friendly and fair to them; _maybe we have nothing to worry about after all._

As his wife, the Senior Lady of Medicine, brought their children forward, Agrimpasa stepped closer to him and said into his ear low enough that only they heard, _"Mother is going to kill you and Gawain! She wanted you two to marry Hippolyta of the Snake Tribe and Antiope of the Cheetah Tribe. She'll accept your children, but your wives will be scorned and cast away. That is, unless she is good enough to defeat the best female warrior of our tribe-me."_

Galahad glared at his twin and said back, _"My wife, is a great warrior. She'll best you easily sister. But, who said that I'm going back to Sarmatia? I don't remember saying anything of the sort. Do you remember me saying anything about leaving Briton and heading to Sarmatia, brother?"_

Gawain looked at his younger siblings and answered, _"Nay, I do not recall you saying so._

Then in an attempt to change the subject, he asked casually, _" So, Agrimpasa, do we have anymore siblings?"_

Agrimpasa straighten her back and answered in Briton, "Yes, we do. Mother birthed two more girls. Their names are Athena and Areia. They are now ten and six and ten and three."

She shut her mouth and then asked brightly, "So, just who are these children of yours!"

Tanais nodded and Agravine added, "They can't be all of those children grouped together near that beautiful wall. I mean, your wives are so young!"

Gawain saw Alma roll her eyes and he answered with a smile, "No, only two are mine and two are Galahad's. The ones in dark yellow (tan) and black are mine and Alma's children and the ones in light blue and bronze are Galahad and Enys'."

Agravine stepped forward, took one of Alma's hands gently since she was holding a baby, and placed a gentle kiss upon it and said, "You are a truly lucky woman to be blessed with such beautiful daughters, My Lady."

Gawain frowned at his action but saw his wife's, Alma's, smile and relaxed as she reply, _"Thank you, I have no complaints."_

Tanais gasped and exclaimed, "You can speak Sarmatian?"

Tanais felt a tugging on his pant leggings. He looked down and saw a beautiful pair of hazel eyes staring back at him. Her red hair was shining brightly as she said, _"Mummy, and Daddy aren't the only ones who know how to talk in Sarmatian! My name is Lady Briana 'Pixie' Wolfe of the House of Wolfe, daughter of Lord Gawain Axelord Wolfe of the House of Wolfe and Lady Alma Peaceful Terra-Wolfe of the Houses of Terra and Wolfe, older sister of Lady Belaya 'Avil' **(bird in Roman) **Wolfe of the House of Wolfe and I'm the oldest of all the heirs of Wolfe!"_

Before Gawain and Galahad's old friends and family could utter a word, a little boy with blond curly hair and green eyes jumped forward and exclaimed, _"You aren't exactly the eldest! We were born within minutes of one another Bri!"_

He blinked and turned to them and said in a sheepish voice and charming bow, _"Ah, I'm Lord Briac 'The Esteemed One' Wolfe of the House of Wolfe, son and heir of Lord Galahad Weaponsguild Wolfe of the House of Wolfe and Lady Enys Tranquil Plethora-Wolfe of the Houses Plethora and Wolfe, and older brother of Lady Aithne 'Pyra' Wolfe of the House of Wolfe." _

The tiny red-hared daughter of his friend, Gawain, stuck out her tongue, pulled down her eye-lid, and said in a vinegary sweet voice, _"A few minutes is still older! I was born two minutes before you were! That means **I'M** the eldest heir of House Wolfe!_

Agravine, Garen, and Tanais laughed heartily as the two children argued in perfectly accented Sarmatian.

Agrimpasa smiled wryly and said in a slightly less challenging tone, "Well, maybe mother **WON'T** kill the two of you after all. Especially when she see how well they can speak our language. But, do they know our customs and stories?"

Galahad saw Enys rolled her eyes and retorted, _"Well, I don't know…I distinctly remember Galahad and Lancelot telling my favorite tale about how the Sarmatian women are said to be descended from the God of War, Ares, and a nymph named Harmonia. Children, which tale is your favorite?"_

Galahad saw his niece, Briana; exclaim happily in Briton, "I **LOVE** the story about Hercules and the Golden girdle he captured from the Amazon Queen Hippolyta!"

Briac rolled his eyes and said, "Yuck! I like the story of how Kings Babai and Beucan fought to the very end against the Huns, but in the end they still lost their lives! Now, that's a story!"

Agrimpasa harrumphed and said grudgingly, "I guess they do know about their birthrights. Mother just might let you stay married after all."

She ignored her brother's glares and turned her attention onto the object of her desire-Lancelot. He was staring at her! She smiled sexily, or so she thought, at him and couldn't believe her eyes when he simply rolled his eyes at her and turned his attention onto Prince Dagonet of the Horse Tribe instead.

Miskoc smiled as he shook hands with his oldest friend and said joyfully, "Dagonet, my friend! It gladdens my heart to see you alive and well! Tell me, who is your lovely wife and these strapping lads here?"

Dagonet smiled at his friend and said as he took his daughter from his wife, "This is my wife, Lady Fulucina Lady of the Houses of Beran-Hors, cousin in name only to Lord Bors Chiefton Beran of the House Beran. These are my sons, Alec 'The Heir' Hors, my heir and my youngest son, Lucus 'The Page' Hors. Both of my sons are training to become Knights of the Round Table. In fact, Alec is to undergo his **_'Trails'_** in three weeks. He's been training steadily more and more each day with Lancelot because of this. I couldn't be more prouder of them both."

At Miskoc's confused look he elaborated, "You see, my son, Lucus, is Gawain's Page and is improving day-by-day."

Miskoc nodded, bent slightly, and said in a deep voice, "So, you're training to become a Knight, lad?"

Dagonet watched as his youngest son nodded and said proudly, "Yep! I'm already way ahead of the other Pages and Uncle Galahad says I'll be able to graduate to a squire soon too!"

Miskoc laughed heartily and said, "Good job lad!"

He turned back to the giant-like Knight and said, "You have two strong lads there, Dagonet. I'm glad you have had a good life here. Now, who is this little lady?"

Dagonet beamed at his sleeping daughter and said in a soft voice full of awe and love, "This is my daughter, Imogene (in likeness of her mother). She's three-months-old."

Miskoc smiled gently and said, "She's a pretty little thing Dagonet. You must be very proud."

Dagonet looked over his old friend's shoulder and saw Lancelot looking at them in question. He tipped his head slightly and Lancelot smiled back at him.

When he turned his attention back to his old friend, he frowned. Miskoc looked like he had bad news to tell him, but didn't know how to tell him.

"Just tell me Miskoc what you're trying so hard not to."

Miskoc sighed and thought _it's not fair. Even now, after twenty years, he can still read me better than anyone alive._

"My friend, Atilla will attempt to harm your children- All of them-not just yours, but **ALL** of them. He's just to set in his ways and in his beliefs. He won't allow himself to change his ways of thinking. Some of the Horse Tribe families have changed their ways of thinking, but more than half remain the stubborn fools that they are. You must be on guard when Atilla is nearby, my friend. If he thought he could get away with it, he'd murder one of them out in the open to show what he really thinks of them."

Dagonet heard Fulucina's gasp of fear, turned to her, and said as he handed his tiny daughter, Imogene-named after his _'little sister'_ Emogen, to her, "Go to Arthur and tell him what Miskoc has told us. Even though we have planned for these actions to occur, to actually have them confirmed is another thing all together."

His wife of nearly five years nodded and rushed to their friend and King's side. Dagonet watched for a minute more and felt satisfaction and relief flood his system. Arthur's entire aura seemed to change as his wife quickly retold their king the news. Arthur would know what to do-he always did.

As Fulucina told him was Atilla was hoping to achieve, Arthur made an obscure hand sign that had Lancelot at his side in an instant.

"What is it Arthur?"

"Lance, I want you to gather the Sarmatians, we'll introduce the children as a whole and then send them the hell away and back to their chambers. We have things to discuss."

He saw Lancelot raise an eyebrow and he quickly whispered what Fulucina told him into his ear. Lancelot's entire body tensed, but he nodded and cleared his throat, "Attention! Children! Come here! Stand in line like you've been taught, now!"

Arthur watched with pride as all twenty-eight children from the oldest, Alec, to the youngest, Imogene, appeared before him.

He nodded and said with a smile, "Turn to our Sarmatian friends and introduce yourselves-the short version. We don't have the time for the long ones."

Alec stepped forward and said, "I am Alec Hors, heir to Lord Dagonet Monies Hors, Head of Finance."

Lucus, who was standing beside him with Imogene in his arms, stepped forward and said, "I am Lucus Hors, and the second son of Lord Dagonet Monies Hors and this is our little sister, Lady Imogene Hors."

The three returned to the line and Gilly stepped up for his turn, "I am Gilly Beran, heir to Lord Bors Chiefton Beran, Governor of Kameland City-Proper of Camelot."

Child number two of the older Knight stepped up and announced with great pride, "I'm Brent Beran and I'm the second son of Lord Bors, Governor of Kameland City-Proper of Camelot."

The twins stepped forward and said together, "We are Ladies Caoimhe and Dierdre Beran, twin daughters of Lord Bors!"

Bors' fifth child stepped up and said, "I'm Ennis Beran and I'm twelve years old!"

The next child of Bors had blond hair and brown eyes. He bowed politely and said, "I am Devin Beran."

The seventh child just leaned over in a perfect bow and said loudly, "I'm Drostan Beran, son of Lord Bors!"

Then a pretty red hared girl with hazel eyes stepped forward, curtsied prettily, and said softly, "I'm Marada Beran and the first of all the heirs of Camelot to be named in honor of our Sarmatian blood."

Another little girl, about seven or eight years old, stepped up, curtsied, and said sweetly, "I'm Lada Beran!"

The next girl had blond hair and green eyes. She simply smiled, tipped her head gently, and said, "I'm Maeotis Beran of the House of Beran."

Arthur smiled as the youngest children of Bors and Vanora's lot stepped up and said cheerfully through two missing front teeth, "I'm-f Donso-f Beran-th!"

His smile grew bigger as Caoimhe moved from her place in line, picked up her little sister, and said carefully, "This is Devitsa Beran and she's three years old."

She placed her littlest sister back on the ground and watched her plop back down on her padded read end. She then picked up her youngest brother that could stand, and said as she knelt down and picked him up, "And this is Sokir Beran."

Vanora appeared from the shadows with another baby and said softly because he was sleeping, "This is our youngest, Tsar Beran of the House of Beran."

The gathered Sarmatians were shocked! They couldn't believe that this woman, this Briton woman, had birthed the Bear tribe so many heirs! And what was worse, in Habren's mind, was that Atilla and the others wanted to ride the world of them all!

Lancelot nudged his twins and they hopped into place and said together, echoing Bors' twins in all actions that they could, "We are Ladies Erlina and Enid Lyon of the House of Lyon!"

Erlina and Enid sat down and held their hands up to Emmy. Emogen gently passed their son to their daughters and together they watched the twins add together, "And this is out younger brother, Lord Cadman of the House of Lyon! He's father's heir! When he grows up he'll become King Protectorate and Knight Commander just like our daddy!"

Then Briana stepped forward, curtsied in her pretty golden dress and said sweetly, "I am Briana Wolfe, eldest heir of House Wolfe and that little bundle in my mother's arms is my little sister, Lady Belaya of House Wolfe!"

Briac grumbled, shuffled to the front, and said sourly, "I'm Lord Briac Wolfe of the House of Wolfe. Over there in me mum's arm is my little sister, Lady Aithne Wolfe of the House of Wolfe."

Then he vanished back behind the other children and his son took the stage.

"I'm Prince Mordwen Pendragon of the House of Camelot, heir to the thrown of Briton and the one my mother's arm is my little sister, Princess Morgana of Camelot and Briton!"

Cordelia smiled and held their daughter up for the Sarmatians to see. Habren had to admit it; the Princess was very beautiful.

Cordelia said gently, "That was a good job, my son, now come here and hold your sister."

The young prince nodded and rushed to his mother's side. Just like Erlina and Enid before him, he plopped down on the ground and reached for his younger sibling.

Lastly Tristran pushed his own son forward. The Sarmatians saw a boy with black hair and gray eyes and then he spoke, "I'm Lord Dunham Palðer, son of Lord Tristan Sentinel Palðer of the House of Palðer, and I'm the heir to the Head of Intelligence. My little sister is the one in light lavender and her name is Lady Amage Palðer."

With this done, Arthur nodded to his wife, who nodded back and said loudly, "Come Ladies! Come children! Let's go to our commons! I'm sure you are all tired and or hungry for some excellent food!"

All of the children cheered as they were ushered out of the Hall of Justice by their mothers. When they were completely gone from sight and hearing, Arthur rounded on the Sarmatians and said heatedly, "I want you all to be gone from this Kingdom by tomorrow! My Knights and I will escort you to Hadrian's Wall where the others have been buried. If I even think that some of our children are in danger, your lives are forfeit here-do you understand me?"


	6. Chapter 6

This chapter will switch views **A LOT**!

**_Pict Language _ **_Sarmatian Language_

Reunion 6

Habren stumbled back from the potency of his words. She didn't understand. What had caused this hasty change in demurer? He had been almost welcoming to them not a few minutes ago. What had caused him to want them to depart from these walls or want them dead so quickly?

Miskoc placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and said soothingly to appease the entire group, "I understand your fear, King Arthur. I do not blame you for wanting us to leave. Your children are in danger while Atilla and his supporters are here. We will accept your escort to Hadrian's Wall and then we'll leave you in peace."

Habren's astonishment quickly melted into comprehension as the older man's words sunk into her thoughts. _Oh, they are protecting their young. That makes since. But, I haven't had enough time to change the views of the others. We **MUST** stay longer…how can I do this…_

Agrimpasa folded her arms across her generous bosom and asked with a largely undersized amount of sarcasm, "And just **WHO** are you going to have escort us, **KING ARTHUR**?" She knew the kind of man this British King was; he was the kind of male who wanted to talk things through in hopes of gaining a diplomatic, nonviolent armistice. _To bad_, she had other ideas and they all involved Lancelot and utterly humiliating his **_PRECIOUS_** wife.

Arthur turned his ferociousness onto the curly blond hared sister of his blood brother Knights and said in an almost savage hiss, "The Knights and I, along with some of the warriors within the Outer Wall will be escorting you, **My Lady Princess**."

At the savage treatment of their guests, Lancelot had to place a hand on Arthur's back and said in a calming voice, "**_Arthur, calm yourself, my friend. I know you want them to go away, so do we all. But, causing them to leave in such a dire way will only cause more trouble for us later on. We will accompany them to the Wall and leave them to Captain Aldus'…soothing conducts. But, this cannot happen if you are ready to kill every last one of them."_** Then he smirked and added, **_"If _I_ cannot slaughter them, you're not permitted to either, so nay."_**

Lancelot stuck out his tongue and smiled as Arthur's destructive side, which only came out during a war or battle, vanished behind his legendry control. He colored slightly as the other Knights' sniggered, but he didn't care. He'd do anything for Arthur-even make a dupe of himself in front of guests-past or new.

The Sarmatians were a bit piqued that their Hosts were having a discussion in a language they did not understand. In fact, some of them were out right livid that their sons had learned the language of their enemy. Habren wasn't such a person. In fact, she was proud of how far her brother had grown while under his imprisonment. When he returned home, for she was sure that their mother could make it attractive for **both** Lancelot and Emogen to stay, he'd be an admirable addition to the Tribe as a whole.

Unfortunately, Agrimpasa wasn't as accepting as her **supposed** sister-in-law. She fumed, as her fiancée talked lightly **OUTLOUD** in Arthur's ear, in the language of their enemy no less!

"LANCELOT!" she shrieked, "Why are you soiling your tongue with such filth!"

As everyone turned to her, she shrieked unrelentingly, "Your mother will hear of this! When she finds out that you've learned the language of those revolting WOADS, she'll…"

The Hall of Justice was so silent, that everyone heard the zing of Lancelot's sword as it was pulled effortlessly from its sheathe. Lancelot smiled wryly to himself as he thought _this is the third time today I've done this…you'd think they'd learn not to talk of our loved ones like this. _

As his sword met her neck, Lancelot cut her off rudely and asked, "She'll what? Come a smack me on the back of the head like I was nothing but a disobedient child? Or she'll disown me for learning another language like she threatened to do to me when she found out my father had been instructing me in Latin? I'm sorry to disappoint you Agrimpasa, but you are neither my wife nor my mother, and you have **_ABSOLUTELY NO SAY IN WHAT I CAN OR CANNOT DO! UNDERTAND!"_**

Tarkan stepped forward and said as he raised his hands in a surrendering gesture, "Now calm down Lancelot. She's reacting to a situation without truly understanding the delicate balance of this meeting. You already knew this because she was meant to be your breeding wife, not your equal in such stately matters."

Agrimpasa visibly paled and jerked back from the Sarmatians. She knew that she wasn't as well versed in their people's politics as she should be, but she had always envisioned Lancelot contentedly tutoring her in their people's ways since he would ultimately become the King of the Sarmatian people. She glanced to the Knights and saw a dark gleeful look on Galahad's face. She sneered. _So, Galahad had known this even before he left home? Why am I not surprised?_ She looked at Lancelot hopefully. Her shoulders slumped even further as her tearful eyes met his stoically blank black-brown ones. _He is not even sympathetic for me! Me! His wife! How dare he do this! He is supposed to honor and support me for the rest of our days! Mother will definitely hear of this!_

Lancelot broke the staring contest with Agrimpasa and said in a thick voice full of promise, "Tarkan, Habren, listen to me closely, I am **NOT** returning to Sarmatia! My home is here! I am **NOT** leaving this place."

Before they could reply, he removed his sword, sheathed it, and then he raised his voice and said loudly and clearly with a strong sense of authority, "This conversation is FINISHED! I will take you back to your chambers where you will rest for the night. Tristran will then escort you to the Banquet Hall for breakfast and from there we will mount up and travel to Hadrian's Wall, understood?"

Before they could argue this, he removed his other hand, which had been squeezing Arthur's shoulder for strength and made a quick hand gesture. Arthur nodded with a relieved smile. Lancelot moved to the Chamber's double doors and reiterated, "Well, move it!"

Habren sighed deeply and wordlessly followed her brother. So far, this day had been nothing but heartbreak and dead ends. Hopefully, while they traveled to Hadrian's Wall, she could think up someway to make Lancelot come with them or convince him to let them all stay in Camelot. She didn't even bother trying to think up a way to influence the King because her brother was the next best thing. _If I can get him to believe that I truly want to remain here and learn of their ways, so I can hopefully do something similar to the Council, maybe he'll let me stay. I **AM** his baby sister, after all._

As he marched them up the white marble stairs, Agrimpasa eagerly slithered to his side and said as she brazenly wrapped her arm around his dark emerald sleeved one, "So, did your King design this castle? It has Roman blood all over it. Your must hate it so, why do you live in this Roman atrocity?"

She smirked delicately at him as he eyed her with distaste in his eyes. She didn't care. _He is mine and there was nothing he can do about it. Our mothers made a blood oath upon my birth to wed me to Lancelot, and not even this jolly jaunt in pagan marriage rites can change that. _

Lancelot sighed roughly and violently pulled his arm away from her clawed grip. He shuddered slightly as she tried to gaze up at him through veiled eyelashes and one thought ran rampant in his mind as they scaled the marble stairs _She's even worse than that tanner when Ula and I were pranking Tristran! (_Referenced to The Sun and Moon of House Lyon-chapter 3 or 4 I believe_) I didn't think anybody could top that btch! I guess I was wrong!_

"Please, Lade Agrimpasa, I do not appreciate your advances. I am a happily married man, and I do not like your actions against my marriage vows." He said through gritted teeth.

As they passed a tapestry, Agrimpasa squealed in fake, even Bors', the most unobservant Knight could tell that, delight and exclaimed, "Look! That's you! I bet you had just vanquished some horrible enemy, right? You look so valiant and strong upon your warhorse!"

Lancelot sighed in hopelessness and said as he persisted up the stairs, forcing her and the other Sarmatians, who had also stopped to view the Tapestry, to follow him, "That was made in my honor after our victory of the Saxons on Badon Hill. You will see the battle site in three days. Now, here are your chambers. Tristran will be by at the crack of dawn to escort you to the Banquet Hall."

As they entered the chambers designated to them, Lancelot added with a sinister mischievousness and a wicked smile, "Oh by the way, the crack of dawn is in five hours, sleep tight!"

He slammed the doors shut and all but ran back to the Hall of Justice where the other Knights were walking out, discussing the Sarmatians and their itinerary, leaving only Arthur sitting in his chair waiting patiently for him.

Bors chuckled and said as he thumped Lancelot heavily on the shoulder, "Lance, Arthur's definitely in a tizzy this time. You have met your match, I guarantee it!"

Lancelot bit the inside of his right cheek and said as he flowed with the heavy thump's motion, "Then I'll just have to rise to the occasion once again, yeah? Oh, and if you can get them, tell Delia and Emmy to come. If you are indeed right, my boisterous friend, I might need a little back up."

Bors' chuckling grew louder as he nodded and followed the other Knights, who hadn't stopped to wait for him as he spoke with the First Knight.

When he closed the heavy oak double doors, they made a low slamming sound that echoed throughout the large room. Lancelot quickly walked to his seat next to Arthur's right side and looked at his friend. He knew Arthur even better than himself. While most people thought the once Roman to be the epitome of control, the truth of it was-Arthur's temper was a large as his own fiery wrath. The difference between them was a simple one-Arthur held it all inside to the point where he could not control it anymore, and he simply blew his top in heated debates with the King. Coincidentally, when it came right down to it, he was more patient than Arthur was.

Arthur sighed and slowly ran his hands through his black hair. Lancelot was startled to see one or two gray hairs at his temple, but also knew that he himself had one or two as well. Their jobs as Lords of Briton weren't easy ones. That topped off with raising an entire horde of children, even with help, equaled one stress filled life. If he was honest with himself, he was shocked that the whole lot of them weren't gray-hared-stem to stern.

"Lancelot, Dagonet's friend, Miskoc has confirmed our greatest fear-Atilla will attempt to kill one of our children if given the chance. I have no choice but to escort them off this island as quickly as possible in order to ensure their safety. The problem is that we **HAVE** to pass by the wall, and they'll want to stay for their funeral rites. How long was that, again?"

Lancelot blinked at the change in topics, but answered easily enough, "A week."

Arthur sighed but continued, "The plan is to herd them out as quickly as possible after breakfast. When we are on the road, and away from Camelot, we are to take them through the Mystifying Forest, through the outer eastern boarders of Gwynydd, pass the Bala Lake, straight up to the Wall."

He looked up into the eyes of his second and saw the light of understanding brighten those dark mischievous brown-black eyes.

Arthur nodded and said, "It was Tristran's idea, believe it or not. I think he plans to prank them all as a whole. He also mentioned something about sending messages to Merlin and Merkin about having the _Inish _come out and play" He stopped and added in an after thought, "We have an early morning, my friend, I wish you goodnight."

Lancelot placed his hand on Arthur's and said, "Hold it, there is more to your earlier temper tantrum Arthur. What else it bothering you?"

Arthur's shoulder dropped and he chuckled to himself and he replied, "I can't get anything by you, can I?"

Lancelot raised an eyebrow that said, "_Do I **REALLY** need to answer that ridiculous question?"_

Arthur placed his fingers to his temple, played with a few of the strands there, and exclaimed, "I have gray hairs on top of everything else Lance! I'm old!"

Lancelot burst out laughing at Arthur's wail of vanity. As his friend glowered at him, he sobered up and explained, "I'm sorry Arthur! But that's the type of thing you'd expect to hear from **ME!** It just struck me as funny since I had **JUST** finished thinking something similar not a few moments ago!"

Arthur's own lips started to twitch in humor as he saw the truth in his friend's statement. His one little vanity was his hair, but when he discovered the tiny gray hairs earlier this morning, it really showed his age. _Well not my true age, really…I'm only thirty-five years old!_

Before they could talk any further, the doors burst open and their wives, Queen Cordelia Dragonheart-Pendragon-Camelot of the Houses Wise and Dragon and Lady Emogen Serenity-Just-Lyon of the Houses Just and Lyon, rushed in.

"We were told by Bors to rush here as fast as possible!" exclaimed Cordelia as she rushed to her husband's side. Emogen did the same to Lancelot.

"Whatever is the matter?" she asked as she sat down next to her husband on his left side.

Lancelot chuckled, stood up, wrapped an arm around his wife, placed a warm kiss on her crown of curls, and said reassuringly, "Nothing is wrong Delia. Arthur was just having one of his rare days of vanity. We'll see the both of you in the morning, yes?"

Arthur, while trying to calm his wife down, nodded distractedly and waved to them both with a flat, distracted smile.

As their doors slammed shut, an eerie silence wafted through the chambers. Habren spun on her heel and marched right up to Atilla and slapped him hard across the face. She was feeling so vindictively that she smiled smugly at the red line that ran from his right ear to his nose.

**"WHAT THE HLL WOMAN! WHAT WAS THAT FOR!"** he roared as he jumped to his feet and placed at hand on his wounded cheek.

Habren hissed at him loudly, "It's because of your pig-headed, ignorant, bigoted, vile, disgusting…. proceedings and beliefs that have caused us to make our own sons repulsed at the very idea of returning home! Lancelot has **VOWED** to not return home because of your actions Atilla! Our people will die out and it's all because of the evils that lie right inside our own people! Lancelot and the others will escort us away from here in the morning, and if anyone of us does anything to cause them thought to panic for their children's lives, **THEY WILL CUT US DOWN!** Our people are dying because people like you cannot **THINK ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE BUT YOUR OWN SELFISH, DEROGATORY, UGLY EXPANSION IN POWER!**"

Atilla's eyes narrowed in hate. He had always hated the royals of the Lion Tribe because they had the most important vote in the Council, they had the most powerful soldiers-male or female, and nine times out of ten, all their heirs returned home. Ever since the pact was made between Sarmatian and Roman two hundred years ago, every one of the Lion Tribe's Knights had returned home to Sarmatia. _This…this…infant shall **NOT** speak to me in this manner! She doesn't have the **RIGHT** to talk to me in this manner! She shouldn't even be **IN** the position of power she has! Her **HUSBAND** and **BETTER** is the **TRUE, HONORABLE** leader of the Lion Tribe-not her! Her **JOB**, if that's what you can call it, is not to lead but birth strong sons for our people to survive! Babai has overstepped his bounds in teaching her our ways of policy. She is nothing but a breeding stock to ensure our races survival…she is **NOTHING! NOTHING!**"_

Habren's eyes widened at Attila's unknowingly spoken words. _If these are his true thoughts…our people truly are doomed. We are slowly being turned from the ways of our ancestors and to the ways of Rome, and with our numbers dwindling…our people will meet with disaster!_

Tarkan shook his head in horror and said into the silence feebly, yet forcefully at the same time, "Atilla, you are truly no longer seeking the survival of Sarmatia, but you are seeking the power to rule us all in the dictorialship of the Emperor himself. You are hereby stripped of all your titles and rank. You are no more than a simple Sarmatian man and Miskoc is hereby reinstated as Dagonet Surefoot of the Horse Tribe's regent in the Council…all in favor?"

Immediately, every Sarmatian in the room, especially the four women in their group, raised their arms. All of them were glaring at the sixty-two year old horseman.

Atilla glared at them all and steamed as they ignored him completely to talk about other things. _How **DARE** they! How **DARE** they? To treat **ME** as some **INSOLENT** child! I, I am the eldest here! **ME!** They are to listen **TO ME!** Our people are strong only in the voice of **ME!** Our people are strong only in the thoughts of **ME!** Our people are strong only in the orders that I, not them,** I** think and have implemented! It's because of me that the Horse Tribe has swelled from a measly fifteen families to thirty in the last eleven years. _He paused, shrugged and added to himself _it's true that I dragged five Sarmatian men from Greece, from their homes and mongrels, and forced them to marry two women each, but once I threatened their other families, they played right into my grasp. I'll just do the same here. After all, how hard can it be to take one child? _

Whew! What an end to the FIRST day, eh? LOL! This story is a lot like the old proverb _Things always get worse before they get better! _But can the Knights handle it-especially Lancelot and later on Tristran? The next chapter will have the tense group traveling to the Wall. But what evils will they encounter with the _Inish_ sent by Merlin and Merkin? Or, will the Duke's send anything at all? Perhaps, Briton's own force of will, will frighten the Sarmatians off her shores…I know not what will happen, do you?


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry for not updating in a while. But I've been away on vacation! But I'm back now and with another chapter to Reunion. _**Pict language **__Sarmatian language_

Reunion 7

The sun had just started to break the horizon as a child playing hide-and-seek, when Tristran jerked into alertness and automatically reached for his sword. When his instinctual proposal met with no rewards, he blinked and looked around his and his wife's sleeping chambers through groggy eyes. His eyebrows furrowed when the threat that had awoken him, remained elusive to his sharp eyes. He sighed and laid back down as he tried to think of a reason why his exceptional danger sense went off in his own chambers.

When he heard a baby gurgle, his eyes widened and he jumped to his feet. He rushed to his daughter, Amage's, side and peered down at her. She was sleeping serenely on her back with a fisted hand quiescently close to her kindly chubby face and the other was fisted to her side. She was moving in her sleep, and Tristran had to smile. She was so adorable! He placed one of his fingers on her beautifully soft baby cheek and said softly, "I'll protect you, my love. I won't let the Sarmatians harm you or any of the others-I promise."

Then he rushed to his son's, Dunham's, chambers and was relieved to see him asleep also. He placed his large hand on his son's head and gently pushed a few stray locks of black hair out of his son's face. Dunham sighed and rolled towards him, and he smiled. He never thought that he'd be one to enjoy the responsibility of fatherhood, but when Alma placed his newborn son in his arms that first time, his entire mind was flooded with hopes and dreams of the future he hadn't let himself think of while he was in Rome's service. He swore that day that his son would have everything he did not have as a child, and he swore that his children would N**OT** see the controlling, repulsive, and savage slavery of Rome like he did.

With a smile, he removed his hand from his son's black shaggy locks, that were very similar to his own, and moved back into his own sleeping chamber-Lancelot had been right six years ago **(reference to All Because of One chapter 13 or 14, I think!)**. He did **NOT** want his son to become a slave for Rome, and with the Empire collapsing from the inside, according to one of Alec's old childhood friends who he still had correspondence with in Rome, the Empire was collecting every able and unable man to arms to protect the beloved Empire of Rome.

When he reached his wardrobe, he quickly pulled on a pair of black leather pants and a dark purple, nearly black, wrap tunic top and tucked the purple cotton into his pants. He quickly straightened the clothing out and pulled out his black leather belt with a bronze panther with amethyst jeweled eyed belt buckle. Then he pulled on his iron gauntlets with amethyst hand guards.

The gauntlets had been Galahad's idea early on in the creation of Camelot. He had been complaining to Arthur and Enys, his wife, that his trainees were hurting themselves to much in training TO TRAIN by catching the swords with their arms and hands when they lost their swords in an attempt to continue fighting. Granted, that was a good thing in a real battle, but not in training-to do such things simply hindered the trainees' progress.

So, Galahad had created, with Gawain, Lancelot, and the palace's blacksmith, Hart, the gauntlets. They were a new invention of metallurgy that the three had stumbled onto by accident. They were a mixture of iron ore, charcoal, and glass. The new _"accident"_ was tested in all possible ways they could think up, and the group of three found out that the new metal was twice as strong as their native iron ore alone. From there, the gauntlets were sized to each Knight in the realm and then to any who wanted them.

By the second year of Camelot's birth, every man was wearing them since they were the newest fashion. He snorted, he didn't care for the latest fashions like other men, but he did wear them everyday he was out journeying across the island for their practical uses; all the Knights of the Round Table did-including Arthur and the Ladies of Camelot.

The gauntlets started at the midpoint of the arms and fell to the wrists. From there, the gauntlets continued out to cover the top portion of the hands, protecting the tiny bones and veins, which lay hidden under their skins. The portion of the gauntlets protecting their hands was decorated with the stones that matched their family colors. It was a vanity, but the gems were just lying there and Hart wasn't using them for anything, so he added them in without bothering to ask any of them if they wanted them in the first place. His were amethyst. Although he hated to admit it, the gauntlets were beautifully done and he did like the way the jewels twinkled in the sunlight.

After placing a sweet and gentle kiss upon his wife's, Ula's, lips, he exited his chambers and made a beeline for Dagonet's chambers, which was the closest wing to his. As he banged on the doors, he impatiently tapped his foot against the stone floor. Nearly two minutes later, Dagonet's still sleep-dazed face appeared.

"Tristran, what is it?" he asked as he stretched out his giant-like body.

The scout's lips turned down in a puzzled frown as his sharp eyes searched for Fulucina in the available space between Dagonet and the door. She wasn't there.

"Where is Fulucina?" he asked shortly as a tiny burst of panic welled up in his gut. He tried to calm himself down by thinking _She's probably in the kitchens supervising the chefs with breakfast. She is the Head Chef after all!_

Dagonet blinked and said with a conundrum tone in his voice, "I don't know. Imogene isn't in her cradle either. You might want to check the family commons."

Tristran raised an eyebrow in question and Dagonet hurried to explain, "She sometimes takes Imogene out there, and sings to her whilst she goes to sleep when our daughter is being stubborn. She does this so I can get some sleep. You might try there."

Tristran nodded sharply and spun away.

Dagonet sighed as he turned towards his window and then back towards his bed. He really wanted to sleep some more, but since he was already up and they **WERE** supposed to start their journey early today, he decided to stay awake. _At least, I'll get a chance to get to the breakfast feast before Bors does._

As Tristran was racing towards their commons, he prayed to anyone listening in the heavens that Fulucina and her daughter were still there. He feared that something had happened and from his jolted wakefulness this morning, his fear had only magnified when he realized that the wife of his friend was missing from their chambers.

He skidded to a halt and blinked. Then he sighed and fell to the floor on his knees. He raised his head towards the ceiling and whispered, "Thank you!"

He got to his feet and gently shook the brown-hared lady of the House of Hors. Fulucina's eyelashes fluttered open and she smiled sleepily at him and tightened her grip on her sleeping baby girl. Tristran returned the smile and said gruffly, "You'd best return to your chambers. The day will start soon enough without you having a hurt neck from sleeping like that."

Fulucina or Cina to her friends and loved ones nodded and quickly left the chambers. Tristran breathed deeply and shook his head once he got his panic under control. He shook his head again, only this time, at his own feelings and reactions to them. This would have never happened six years ago. _But, I guess five and a half years of marriage and children can change a man._ He thought ruefully to himself as he grabbed the last apple from the fruit basket on the table and left the Circle of Wings to escort the Sarmatians to the Great Hall.

As he left he thought distractedly _where is that apple girl, Katheryne? She was supposed to fill the fruit basket last night?_

After climbing up six flights of stairs, Tristran strolled up to the guard on duty, Sir Morton of the Round Table, and commanded, "Open the doors loudly, lets give them a wake-up that they'll never forget."

Sir Morton', normally bland face, transform into a smirk as he nodded at his superior, for that was what Tristran was. Morton was the third best scouter in the kingdom third only to Tristran and Lavelle, Tristran's fourteen year old Page soon to be promoted Squire.

Tristran nodded back as Morton gripped the oak door handles securely and roughly shoved them open. As the large doors gonged their morning announcements to the dead asleep Sarmatians, Tristran waked without error to the large east-facing windows. He threw open the curtains and smiled darkly as the sunrise cast brightly colored beams of dancing sunlight all over the visitors.

With cries of shock and protest, the group of thirty or so Sarmatians grudgingly got to their feet.

Atilla was not a happy man. Now, generally this was a normal thing, but with the events of yesterday still fresh in his mind, all his planning that he did in secret, and the early wake-up call was a recipe for disaster! Since his mind was still to distorted to think straight, he stomped over to the impertinent boy and growled out in his native language, _"What's the meaning for this boy? We were asleep! And most of us didn't fall asleep until two hours after the witching hour."_

Tristran wasn't impressed by the older man's attempt to unhorse him by trying to intimidate him and replied matter-of-factly, "You were warned by Lord Lancelot that I would arrive with the dawn to escort you to the Great Hall from breakfast. I am here. Actually, I let you sleep in. Dawn was nearly an hour ago. Hurry and change. I shall be waiting for you out in the hall."

With that, Tristran spun on his heel and the doors slammed shut behind him making the loud gonging sound reverberate in the chambers.

Princess Ilona of the Panther Tribe, Tristran's little sister, smiled to herself as she and Habren hurriedly changed clothes. _So, big brother hasn't change so much after all._ She thought victoriously. She cast a glance at her future sister-n-law, Calbur of the Panther Tribe, and grimaced. Calbur was, in truth, her and Tristran's third cousin, and she shudder with revulsion as she envisioned what Calbur and Tristran's children would look like. Her own son was an exact replica of Tristran, and he wasn't very smart. She turned to Habren and smiled. She enjoyed the company of the Lion Princess because they understood the dangers their other tribesmen were studiously ignoring. With Rome stealing all their boys and men, those of the male persuasion that were left behind in their tribes-the very old, the very young, and the disabled, had to marry or mate with the women left behind. They were slowly chocking themselves to death with all the inbreeding.

The two like-minded princesses nodded to one another and hurried out the doors. The others followed behind them-at a much slower pace though.

Habren was excited. Today was the day she would endeavor to change her eldest brother's mind. If she could persuade him to let her and the others stay, Arthur would surely allow it! She had seen how much this **King Arthur** relied on her brother, and she planned on using this Achilles' heel to her advantage.

She moved to stand close to the stoic Sarmatian Knight, and said in their language hoping that she could get him to say something, "_Your sister, has waited patiently to meet with you. Will you say something to her?_"

Tristran turned his head slightly and as he moved to the left slightly more away from her than he had been before, he answered back in Briton, "If she wishes to talk to me, she knows what to do. I haven't changed so much that I forgot how to talk to my own sister."

Habren was shocked and a bit irked when the Knight she had been admiring the day before because he had taken control of the meeting away from his King, took a deliberate step away from her and answered her in the language of the land they were currently standing on. She took a deep breath and challenged him by stepping forward and straight into his personal space.

She tilted her head and asked gently, "Have you? You answer a fellow royal in a foreign tongue and purposely move away from me. What have I done to earn your disgust?"

Tristran's eyebrows rose at her words, but he kept the smile off his lips. _Lancelot's sister is definitely as opinionated as he is, and just as fearless when it comes time to share her ideas. But,_ he thought with a slight frown showing on his lips, _I am not the same teenager I once was who followed the orders of my elders and played the polite face towards the other royals. I am a new man they have no idea about, and they must earn my trust, and so far they have not done so._

Tristran tilted his head down a bit to look her in the eyes and said strongly as the other Sarmatians exited the chambers, "Princess Habren, while I am a royal of the Sarmatians, I gave up that title when I left for Briton twenty years ago. Ilona's husband or if my mother birthed another son for my father, has the title now. Now, please, follow me."

Tristran tilted his head to his sister and raised an eyebrow. He watched with pleasure as his little sister smiled and nodded as she placed a hand over her heart and then held her hand out to him. He repeated the motion and waved her in front of him. He had always loved his sister more than anyone else in his family. When his family had discovered that Ilona was mute when she was three years old, they had ridiculed her, and his father wanted to kill her. Only he loved his baby sister enough to step in and thwart his father from murdering his guiltless sister. His mother, Queen Tyze of the Panther Tribe, had turned her head away from the activities his father was doing, and pretended that his sister had died in childbirth to save face. He shook his head softly as he thought to himself _to my tribe, perfection in everything is paramount. For the royal princess of our tribe to be mute, was the greatest slap in the face the gods could have given our parents. Mother loved the power and prestige of our tribe, and cared nothing for Tsar, Ilona, Demeter, Diana or me. She publicly cared for Tsar and me since he was the heir and her ticket to more power and I was her back up, but in the silence of our own home, she treated us no better than orphaned bastards. It only got worse when she promised me to Calbur when Tsar died._

As he shuddered to clear his mind of those thoughts, he was surprised that he had lead them unconsciously to the Great Hall, and said loudly, "Here is the Great Hall! You are permitted to eat your fill and when you have finished, you are to be escorted to the stables where the Knights and the Outer Defense Soldiers will be waiting for you. Eat well _'Sons and Daughters of Sarmatia'_!"

With that he turned sharply on his heel and made his way to the stables. Unfortunately he didn't get very far as Calbur slide up to him and said in a pretend coy voice as her fingers tiptoed up his muscular chest to his neck where they played with his braids, "Where are you going so fast husband? I was disappointed you didn't escort us to our chambers. I would have liked to **_bed _**down with you since we are to be wed when we return to Sarmatia. I'm sure your mother would have ignored the fact that we aren't married yet."

Tristran's face contorted in a super-human attempt at keeping his rage from showing as he said flatly and harshly removed her fingers from his body, "I was otherwise detained, and I'm **NOT** your husband Calbur."

Tristran watched his ex-betroth pout and whine, "I **AM** your wife! Your mother and mine promise it so! You cannot go against the words of Queen Tyze, even if she's your mother! Why are you acting so frigid to me?"

Then he watched as her eyes grew icy cold as she added slyly in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear easily and without a chance of miscommunication; "Don't tell me you've never laid with a woman before Husband! A Knight of your looks must have had many lovers in your years here in Briton."

Tristran's control was hazardously looming near its breaking point as a few of the men he had seen with Lancelot and Galahad and Gawain snorted in laughter as he said through gritted teeth, "No, I have laid with women before. I am acting, as you've said, "frigid" towards you because I am married to a wonderful, beautiful healer and have two beautiful children. Now, let me go, or I shall remove your arm very painfully."

Then as her eyes turned slightly more guarded, he added dangerously in Sarmatian so all of them could hear him as she had done to him, "_And, since I've been a Knight since I was seventeen and training years before even that, I know many, MANY, **MANY** ways of killing slowly and painfully._"

Calbur gulped in fear as her betrothed's eyes changed from a steely gray to a warm gray, if that was at all possible, when his eyes met his sister's. His sister nodded and smiled at him in understanding. Calbur clenched her fists by her side in rage. How **DARE** that muted idiot dare to agree with her arrogant husband! _Tristran belongs to me! **Me!**_ It was with their union that would make their tribe soar to the top and knock the Lion tribe to the depths of the fiery hell that Romans were so scared of. How dare her sister-n-law do this to her!

Calbur bit her lip harshly and ecstatically licked the blood away from her bottom lip. She was the best warrior princess of their tribe, second to no man. As was their laws, she could not marry until a man defeated her in combat. In the fifteen years Tristran had been gone, Calbur had been challenged more than one hundred times by every Sarmatian male in all the territories. Her only chance at marriage and power was through Tristran and or the other Knights-preferably Tristran-she didn't want to leave her homeland to live with another inferior tribe after all. _By Mithras! I'll get him to defeat me in honorable combat, or I'll kill his wife in her sleep and steal the babies and raise them as my own and turn them against him!_

Tristran saw the determined glint in the blue eyes of his former betrothed, and knew that she was planning something, but he didn't know what. He sighed, yet **one more** thing for him and the other Knights to worry about. He ruthlessly pulled his arm away from her and left without saying another word.

When the double doors banged closed behind Tristran, Habren said loudly, "This is what you are all going to be doing today…**DON'T MAKE THE KNIGHTS MAD!** King Arthur has already expressed a great desire to either kill us all or send us by boat back to the main land. Plus, none of our sons wish to return home. I, for one, do not want to return to Sarmatian and tell our leaders and mothers that their sons refuse to come home. So, we must make ourselves appear danger less to them so they will let us stay."

As another attempted to speak up, Tarkan cut in, "By appearing harmless to them, they might be persuaded into letting us stay, so we can convince our brothers to return home." To himself he thought _Lancelot **MUST** come home! I'm **NOT** marrying Agrimpasa! I'm **NOT!** But how will I get him to come home? I…I must make him see that staying here will only cause him heartache. But how?_ Then his thoughts trailed to his older brother's children and inadvertently to their mother and Lancelot's wife.

A glint appeared in his eyes that all who knew him could not label and it worried them greatly._ Of course…when Habren convinces Lance to let us stay, I'll plant the seeds of betrayal in his mind and flirt with his wife. It's mean and I'll hate myself in the end I know, but I WILL NOT marry Agrimpasa! I've already promised Jessiopeia that I will marry her when we return! And I **WILL NOT** break that promise to the mother of my unborn child. Even if I have to break my brother's heart and family to do it…._

Tor snorted and said as he crossed his arms, "I still say we should just kill all the little bastards and drag them all home like the stragglers that they are. Bors knows he has a betrothed at home! Artemis will not wait for much longer for him to come home."

Then he thought, _But how can I achieve this? Bors will be watching my every move, and the others will too. I don't have the intensive training that Bors has in warfare. He'll kill me before I can kill even one of those mongrel bastards. But, I **HAVE** to remain here to accomplish this, so…I must play nice with my half nieces and nephews. _

Atilla smirked victoriously and added in support, "Hear, hear, I agree, we should just grab them all, strap them to our horses, and return to Sarmatia whether they like it or not!"

He thought, _Excellent! With Tor's help I can complete my plan and kidnap one of those bastards and force all our sons to return home!_

As a whole, the Sarmatians ignored them, but Tor nodded in companionship and understanding. The group ate silently and when they were finished, Agrimpasa marched up to the door and as she hammered on them and shouted in a shrieking tone, "Open the damn doors! We're finished!"

The doors opened and revealed Galahad standing there with his hands placed over his ears. He glared at his twin sister and demanded, "Must you screech so loudly, girl? You about nearly made my ears bleed off! I thought for sure you would have outgrown that pre-adolescent impulse by now!"

Agrimpasa folded her arms across her bosom and said snarkly in a mocking concerned tone, "Of brother dearest, just as I thought you'd have outgrown your pre-adolescent urge to bed anything with blond hair and blue eyes. After all, Antiope is brown hared and has brown eyes."

Galahad growled something under his breath and Agrimpasa tried desperately to hear it. Unfortunately, all she heard was the utterances of the horrid Woad language.

She glared even more ruthlessly at him and yelled, "You speak in that vile tongue as well? Mother will skin you alive Galahad!"

Then she froze, her eyes grew wide, and she pleaded, "Please, PLEASE, **_PLEASE_** tell me Gawain doesn't know this as well! Mother will die if she finds out!"

Galahad simply smiled and leaned against the stone walls of the castle. He didn't even deign her with an answer and Agrimpasa felt all her blood bleed out of her face. That's when she and the others got a good look at his clothes. They gasped. These weren't the clothes of the free spirited Sarmatian Princes they remembered. These were the clothes of strong willed, commanding, high-spirited Lords. He was dressed in black leather boots, black leather pants, a black leather belt with a bronze wolf with a light blue topaz jewels for eyes, a light blue cotton shirt, his iron gauntlets with light blue topaz hand guards, and a black cape with a bronze wolf cape clasp on his right shoulder.

Agrimpasa frowned heavily and asked pompously, "What on earth are you wearing!"

Galahad smirked and answered as he pushed himself off the wall and walked towards the stables, forcing the others to follow him less they get lost in the castle's many hallways, "I'm wearing what I usually wear when I'm going somewhere in Briton. The others are dressed similarly to me only with different colors. Now, come on, we're late because you ate for so long."

Galahad led them to the stables very quickly. It seemed like he was in a hurry to get rid of them as fast as he possibly could.

As they followed the fast moving Lord, the castle's many tapestries and engravings awed the Sarmatians. All the walls had the engravings that matched the shields in the Hall of Justice. As they passed by the workers in the palace, the workers stopped and bowed lightly to Galahad and gave him jovial greetings. Agrimpasa in particular, noticed how her twin made the effort to appear equally joyful to the castle workers. He even smiled and greeted over half of the workers by name causing them to smile splendidly back at him.

Habren winced at the thought of them being herded like horses out of her brother's life. _I'm probably right too. It just isn't fair! All of us are being rebuked for the thoughts and actions of a few of us._ She would have to confront her brother about staying here cautiously as she didn't want them to think she was trying to go after their children. She didn't blame them though. She understood completely that Atilla and his followers presented themselves as a threat to their children, and if she had any children herself; she'd be just as vigilant.

When they arrived, Arthur, seated tall and proud on his warhorse, Cagne, said commandingly, "Your horses have been made ready for you. All you need to do, is mount up and we can leave."

Out of the corner of her eye, Habren saw her brother kissing his wife and her sister-n-law, Emogen, passionately. Her brother picked up his son, handed him to Lord Bors eldest daughter, Caoimhe, and proceeded to pick Emogen up and continue to kiss her. The elder twins and Lancelot own twin daughters, _the Sun and Moon of House Lyon_, giggled at the show. She noticed the other Knights rolling their eyes at the display and decided that this was a common occurrence with her brother and his wife. She smiled slightly at them. They truly looked to be in love and she was truly happy for her brother. He then proceeded to hug and kiss his daughters and when he took his son into his arms once more, he kiss his son's brow. He smiled at them all and mounted his black warhorse.

She smiled and asked slightly shocked and amazed, "Is that Vertigo?"

Lancelot looked back at her with a tiny smile and replied proudly as he rubbed the neck of his horse, "Yes, this old warhorse has served me well. We're the best of friends, isn't that right old friend?"

Habren had to laugh as the horse that her father had given her brother twenty years ago, Vertigo, snorted in agreement and bounced his head up and down excitedly. Lancelot laughed too and added, "He's twenty one years old and acts like he's ten again!"

The horse, Vertigo, snorted and bucked a little causing Lancelot to grip the horse's side with his thighs and exclaim, "Okay! Maybe not so old, eh?"

Vertigo neighed and settled down. Lancelot chuckled along with the other Knights as they too said good-bye to their families.

Seamus smiled from on top of his horse, a gray hared horse with a black mane and tail named Black-Eyes, and said teasingly and loudly enough for the First Knight and Agrimpasa to hear, "Don't you worry none, Emmy, I'll protect Lance-y from the big evil witch-lady."

Agrimpasa growled softly to herself as she watched her, **HER** husband, kissed another woman passionately. She barred her teeth as he hugged and kissed the children that should have been hers. Then she smirked. Lancelot had to pass by her to get to Arthur, she'd just grab him and kiss him in front of everyone and make it look-like he had kissed her. After all, Lancelot was a flirt-always had been. You can't change a man's behavior no matter what. Once a flirt-eternally a flirt-at least that's what her mother always told her. She all but snarled when Seamus trotted across her vision first though, and nearly missed her chance to kiss Lancelot. His horses' neighing shot her back into her right mindset and then she struck.

As he walked over on his horse, Agrimpasa leaned over and felt the world's power take control. She fell. It was timed so perfectly that it looked natural. She smirked triumphantly as Lancelot instinctually, put out his arms and caught her.

He grimaced and just as easily put her back on her horse and said, "Nice try Agrimpasa, but as natural as that looked, it was only an act to get your way."

Galahad grumbled to Gawain quite loudly, "Again!"

Gawain chuckled and nodded in agreement.

Agrimpasa was steaming. She sunk her nails into his upper arm, where the gauntlets didn't protect him, and squeezed as she leaned forward and planted her lips on his. She moaned as she felt his plump sensual lips. They were everything she had imagined them to be. Even as a child, Lancelot's lips were perfectly shaped for kissing. As an adult, they were even better. As a child, he could charm the dresses off of any woman. As an adult, he could do the same and fulfill the desire that he had started within the women's bellies.

Lancelot gasped and felt Agrimpasa take advantage of his brief moment of shock. When his shock wore off, a lot faster that Agrimpasa hoped for he knew, he abruptly pulled back, looked over his shoulder to his wife and smiled reassuringly and lovingly at her.

Agrimpasa nearly screamed when Lady Emogen Serenity Just-Lyon of the Houses of Just and Lyon, Lady Ambassador of Peace and the Queen's High Councilor smiled sweetly back and waved. The children with her waved back at Lancelot enthusiastically too. She couldn't understand why the Lady of House Lyon wasn't behaving in the manner in which she was used to. Whenever she had tried to lead other Sarmatian men on, their wives became insanely jealous and started screaming at her and more importantly, their husbands. _Why isn't she responding like she's supposed too!_

When Lancelot's back was facing away from her, Agrimpasa saw Emogen look fiercely at her. Agrimpasa felt a burst of panic settle in her belly. That glare wasn't a very nice one and it sent chills straight to her soul.

Arthur shook his head as his friend and second-n-command reached his side and sigh out, "It's only going to get worse, isn't it?"

Lancelot snorted and replied back sarcastically, "Does it ever get better before getting worse for us? I mean, look at our history and tell me one single time where the best events happened **BEFORE** the worst occurred first?"

The First Knight of the Round Table shook his head tiredly and gave his old friend a nudge in the sides. Vertigo responded like the old-pro that he was and soon he and three other Knights, Seamus, Dean, and Connor, were racing after him as the others chased after him.

Before he lost sight of the castle's inhabitants, Seamus pulled back and raised his hand in the air and then brought it to his heart. It was his signal to Emogen that he would watch over and protect Lancelot with his life just like he had done so for her all those years ago.

The group traveled for two hours in absolute silence. A few of the Knights siblings had tried to talk to them, but when they received stone cold silence, the Sarmatians took the hint and remained silent.

Habren was antsy. She wanted to start persuading her brother into letting them stay in Camelot and Briton for another moon or two, but with the reception she and the others had been given, she didn't want to take any chances. She sighed when Ilona trotted up to her and made a few hand movements. Habren raised an eyebrow and made a few hand gestures herself. Ilona snorted and made a few more movements, and tilted her head towards the Knights. They were staring at the two of them with open interest.

Arthur cleared his throat and said slowly, "It's interesting, isn't it? How a person, who cannot talk verbally, can get their point across with a few hand signs. Tristran taught all of us the sign language you and he developed and it helped us greatly when we needed the cover of silence. Why did you learn, lady?"

Habren blinked at the King's choice of opening dialogue, but nodded and decided to follow his lead. Talking was talking, and at this point in time, she'd take up a conversation about sex and incest just to get the lines of communication started.

"I learned when I had to represent my father in the councils with Tarkan because he was very sick one summer a few years ago."

At Lancelot's concerned face, she waved her hand through the air and answered sincerely, "It was a simple head cold that got the best of him. He beat it in the end though and is just a strong now as he was when we were little. A good thing too, since Litaleya, Zambian, and Hera kept him on his toes before he really comprehended he was the father of three more children."

Lancelot blinked at that and felt his throat close up on him. He had three more siblings that he had never known about. Of course, he knew intellectually that his mother most likely would birth his father more children since she was only in her early thirties when he left, but it was still a shock to hear the truth of it right in front of him in the form of his baby sister. He grimaced to himself and thought darkly _No, she's not my baby sister anymore. That honor goes to a girl I've never met before…Hera._

Habren tilted her head down and smiled to herself. It was a dirty trick, but it gave a powerful message to her brother. He had family that needed him back home, and he couldn't dawdle here in Briton any longer. Of course, she'd keep him here for the amount of time necessary to convince the others that they needed the blood of other nations to keep their people alive, but when she had succeeded in that venture, she'd be able to put her complete attention on her brother and make him go home. Since she was sure he would never leave without them, Emogen and the children would be welcome to come as well.

Arthur saw the pain cross his friend's face, and cleared his throat loudly and sent a callous glare at the Lion Princess. She simply smiled and shrugged. Arthur knew she wasn't very apologetic about what she said, but it was still a very uncouth thing to do. Lancelot really had wanted to go home, but at the time Emogen couldn't travel and he couldn't leave Camelot to his second-n-command's jurisdiction. Godrerik was just too bloodthirsty and addicted to power. He bit his lip and looked ahead of him where Tristran was waiting on top of a hill with Siolae perched serenely on his iron gauntlet.

When they reached the Scout, he reported, "The Mystifying Forest is just ahead of us. Also, something is there watching us. We must cross it warily."

The Sarmatians that overhead the conversation involuntarily griped their weapons and glanced around one another warily. What was out there that had even the Knights, who had fought on these very lands for twenty years, to become cautious?

Habren watched as her brother, Lancelot, glance about him and pay a lot of attention to the forest. She, too, glanced in that direction and felt her heart skip a beat as a shadow jumped from the tree and onto the ground before it was literally swallowed by the darkness of the forest's foliage.

Tristran's bland voice rolled over them all, "Inish, they are playing with us Arthur."

The Sarmatians watched as the Knights visibly paled and watched as their hands inched towards their weapons of choice.

Calbur, who had strayed to Tristran's side in a desperate hope to gain his favor while he was away from his wife and children, place a convincing hand on his protected arm and asked concernedly, "What are _Inish_?"

Dagonet smirked and answered his very favorite topic of discussion, "_Inish_, are what the people of Briton call _Devil Ghosts_. They roam the forests and feast on those not of this land. They like to tease those who are their prey. You'd best sleep with one eye open tonight, less you find yourself the meal of a vengeful spirit."

Many of the Sarmatians gulped and twisted to and fro in their saddles. The Sarmatians, Habren, Ilona, and Agrimpasa in particular stared into the forest vainly. The early morning Briton mists covered that which was open ground and the gloom of the forests covered the rest. Then just as their eyes gave up, three blue black blurs entered their vision from the right and three arrows flew out of the forests and met the ground just before Atilla, Tor, and Pappy. Their horses reared up in terror and knocked the three men off their steeds. The three landed in a muddy knoll and laid there shocked as their horses ran deep into the forest.

Dagonet shook his head sadly and said in a mocking tone of remorse, "That's to bad, they have already chosen their next meal…you are condemned to a long, terror filled death, my Lords."

I hope this chapter makes up for two weeks of not being here to update!


	8. Chapter 8

Reunion 8

This will jump P.O.V.s like all the other chapters-Knights and Sarmatians will be varied!

The entire group, whom had been watching with a range of thinly hidden amusement (the Knights) to out right rage (Atilla and his supporters), halted their horses as Pappy cried out, "Now how will we travel! I'm **NOT** walking the entire way!"

Gawain, who had been trotting closest to the three because he had the highest anger tolerance next to Marquess Emogen (her proper title-although people call her Your Ladyship and or My Lady) herself, snorted and said sarcastically, "Are you Sarmatians or not? Chase them down!"

Pappy, with muddy water still running down his face and back, shivered as the chilly Briton weather mixed with the breezy winds caressed his drenched body.

Lancelot's once best friend glared up at the blond hared Knight and crabbed out, "How? I have no other horse!"

Gawain rolled his eyes and said with false praise as he slumped down slightly in his saddle and waved his hand lackadaisically about his head, "And you call yourselves Great Sarmatians!"

He sat up straighter in his saddle and added darkly, "Some _'Great Horsemen'_, never mind, I'll go get them all."

Gawain heard his brother snort and answered the unasked question, "Well, it's either that or have them ride with one of us…"

The lion-like man watch with glee as his brother recognized the situation, Galahad's grass green eyes widened in horror. He knew who Pappy of the Lion Tribe would have to ride with-him. His horse, Maphestas, was the youngest and strongest horse in the group because he had been born only six years before. Maphestas was the son of his old horse, Flight of Freedom, whom he had ridden for most of his fifteen years of servitude to Rome.

Gawain nodded and turned his horse around and said, "I'll be back in an hour, at the most!"

Atilla, who was trying to brush off as much dirt and water as he could, growled in frustration as his attempts to cleanse himself off only made the dirt smear even more.

He was nearly ready to murder the entire group because the remaining Knights were not even bothering to hide their merriment. Even some of his more uncouth-like supporters were laughing at him.

"And what is so funny!" he demanded in a roar of ill disguised rage and slight fear-that arrow had just missed him after all!

Arthur, who had heard and seen the rage, sobered up and answered enigmatically, "The mud of our land, is unique. It clings to the body like mists do to the morning hills."

Habren watched all this with wide eyes. This was **NOT** how she imagined their reunion would be like. First, her brother tried to send her away without telling her who he was and continued to allow her to think that he was dead. Second, he married another woman-although that wasn't bad at all. _I **HATE** Agrimpasa! I'm glad he married Lady Emogen. She seems like a wonderful wife, mother, and leader._ Third, her brother wanted to kick her and the others off the island as fast as possible because the Knights simply didn't want to return to the land of their birth, and lastly, her brother was taking pleasure from others in pain._ Well, I guess it isn't to bad since it **IS** Atilla and Tor, but Pappy is Lance's best friend! He shouldn't be acting like this!_

Tarkan, who had been close to his brother, leaned over and asked flippantly but loud enough for all of them to hear, "What does that mean?"

Lancelot tilted his head in the direction of his brother, rolled his eyes, and replied as his head turned back to the forest they were currently traveling through, "It means, that Briton is a person all to herself. What she does with her lands is her own doing. If you want to survive here, you must first learn to live **WITH** her and not against her."

Agrimpasa smiled victoriously to herself as she walked closely to Lancelot, placed her hand on his chest, and with wide eyes accused, "You make this horrid land sound like it's alive!"

Lancelot smirked forebodingly at her, leaned in closer to the Sarmatians-**AWAY** from her, and reassured insultingly, "Oh, but she is…don't you know the legends of Briton?"

At their looks of repugnance, he knew that they would **NEVER** try to learn the ways of the land they despised; he added, "Briton is just a physical manifestation of the divine dragon, Britannia. The very ground we walk on is Britannia's own emerald belly."

Then he leaned in even closer and said in a mysterious whisper that traveled to them all along a suddenly freezing and amazingly scorching wind, "She watches everything, she knows everything, and she kills all who endanger her."

The Sarmatian jumped out of the trance-like state that Lancelot and the winds had placed them under as he sat up right and proud in his saddle and finished with a mindless shrug, "Why do you think the Romans had such problems converting this land to their own?"

With that they watched him trot over to Arthur and lean in to quietly talk with the King. They were startled to hear them chuckling especially when they had stopped in such a dangerous spot.

Tor, who was standing as close as possible to his older brother, Bors, without being to noticeable, asked in a voice just shy of antsy, "Shouldn't we just go? I mean, those **_Inish_** are still out there aren't they?"

Bors looked down on his little brother with delight in his brown eyes as he asked in deride concern, "What's this? Is the strong, fearless, and courageous Prince of the Bear Tribe afraid of a few _Inish_?"

Before Tor could respond, Gawain reappeared with three horses tethered to his own reigns. He snorted and silently tossed the soiled men their horse's reigns as he rejoined his brother near the other Knights of the Round Table.

Arthur sighed and said, "Good, lets go. I don't want to remain in here any longer than we absolutely need to. Britannia might like us, but I doubt the Earl of Sherwood will be so understanding about us dilly-dallying in his county without **"announcing ourselves"** to him as is proper."

The Sarmatians were confused as the other Knights rolled their eyes at Arthur's words.

Ilona tapped her brother and signed very quickly her question. She watched Tristan and nodded. She understood their dislike because Agrimpasa acted just as superior, like this Earl of Sherwood does.

As they continued down the shadowed path, through the Mystic Forest, commonly named Sherwood, Tor, Atilla, and Pappy, who were ecstatic to have their horses back, jumped continuously at every abnormal sound that the forest made.

Habren, Agrimpasa, Ilona, and Calbur suddenly rode into the midst of the Knights and Habren announced, "Did you know that father wishes to see you once more before he dies Lancelot?"

_This should get him to go home!_

Lancelot stiffened and turned to his baby-_NO!_-little sister. She had a sadly coy smile on her face, but he found himself not trusting her facial expressions. After all, not to long ago, she, **herself**, had revealed that their father was alive and well. His father is younger than Duncan, his father-n-law, so he knew his father had many years left to live.

He sighed and replied, "No, I did not. But, I will see him once again be it in this life or in the after life. What of my new siblings that were born after I left? Will you tell me of them?"

Galahad piped in and exclaimed, "Yeah, Agrimpasa, tell us of our siblings too!"

Ilona simply nodded her head yes and made an action that mocked how a mother rocked a baby to sleep in her arms and held up one finger. Tristan understood-he had one new sibling.

Habren smiled as she thought of her younger brother and sisters.

Before she could talk of them, Tristan interrupted in, "What is the name of my youngest sibling?"

Melean leaned forward from his place beside Habren, his reluctant wife, and answered for her much to her consternation, "Galatan, he's fifteen this year and your mother's pride and joy."

She watched as Tristan snorted and mumbled to himself, "Yeah right…"

She raised and eyebrow and continued, "Well, there is Litaleya who is or rather **WAS** eight years younger than me. She was born three years after you left."

Lancelot felt a jolt of sadness at the enhanced word, was, he knew why it was past tense, but he still had to ask, "Was?"

Tarkan smiled sadly and answered softly in an attempt to soften the blow, "She died just before we left in one of the raids by the Huns. She was so beautiful. Every man in the village of marrying age wanted to marry her."

Lancelot bit his lip as Habren replied, "Just imagine a feminine version of you with softer cheekbones and you have what Litaleya looked like."

He could do that easily. He had plenty of exercise at visualizing a female version of himself thanks to the other Knights and their teasing. His little sister, one he had never met and would **NEVER** meet, was beautiful. He whispered to himself _Take care little sister, may the Gods of Sarmatia and God and the Goddess watch over you as you rejoin the circle of life._

Habren continued after a short time, "Then there is Zimkar! He is father's exact look-alike. He is eighteen years old and very flirtatious. He is also a fierce warrior. He killed his first man during the raid that claimed Litaleya. In fact, he killed Lita's murderer. You'd be proud of him Lance. He has done our tribe great wonders. He has a great desire to meet you too!"

As Habren adamantly talked about her siblings to her recently absent elder brother and his best friend, Agrimpasa was also telling her twin and elder brother all about their younger sisters, Athena and Areia.

"Well, Athena is five foot even and had straight blond hair like you Gawain. She had hazel eyes and has an eye for archery. Areia is five foot five and has straight brown hair and blue eyes. She's taller than Athena by five inches and she's three years younger! Mother thinks she's half weed with all the growing she's done in the past five months alone! Areia is a mistress of nearly every weapon father has given to her. It's like she picks up a weapon and immediately knows what to do with it, sometimes. If she continues at this pace, she'll have a better handle of the weapons than me, and she could possible steal my title from me! It's wonderful! You both really need to come home and meet them!"

She watched as her brother exchanged glances. It bothered her to the high heavens that she couldn't distinguish what the tiny glances meant, but she held her tongue and snuck a glance at Lancelot. He was smiling and listening wholeheartedly as her **_sister-n-law_** told the group all about Lancelot's younger siblings.

Gawain was starting to feel bad. Perhaps they should have gone home that first year to visit their families. It would have made their families in Sarmatia happy and they would have gotten to meet their siblings. _But, I don't regret staying either! I **LOVE** my life here! I wouldn't trade it for all the freedom in the world! Or all the gold in the Roman Empire…but, I wish I could meet my little sisters…_

Before he could loose himself in his thoughts, Garen rode up and claimed cheerfully, "Ah! So, Agrimpasa telling you of Athena and Areia then, that's good! But, I and a few others have something of great importance and happiness to tell you and your brother Knights!"

Galahad raised and eyebrow and asked, "What's this good news? If it's important enough, I'll tell Arthur."

The once youngest Knights of the Round Table, for that title went to Sir Lionel when he joined a year ago, watched as his cousin sat up straighter and said strongly, "It's about Atilla and his position here. We have much to discuss with King Arthur."

Galahad nodded sharply, pursed his lips together, and gave off a soft bird-like chirp. Arthur and the Knights halted their horses and turned to Galahad.

He stated with a shrug, "Garen and a few others need to tell us of Atilla."

He and the other Knights glared at Atilla and Tor as they joined the brothers. Galahad observed as Tarkan and Agravine joined them as well.

Atilla trembled in fury as he heard what that ostentatious, spoiled, princeling, Galahad, announced. He was about to march up to **KING **Arthur and demand that they return to the castle at once, when Melean placed his horse in front of the elder man and glared at him. _How **DARE** they tell these foreign bastards about my dishonor! I **AM** still in charge! I **AM** the eldest Sarmatian here! My word is **LAW** not those pathetic Lion Tribe heirs!_ Thought the sixty-two year old prejudicial man as rage practically boiled his blood and made him turn a horrifyingly fearful red tone. It never occurred to him that his own people would betray him like they had, but he'd regain his power soon enough. He just had to bide his time patiently, that's all.

Arthur sighed when he stopped in front of the Sarmatians and asked, "Well, what's all this about?"

He tapped his foot impatiently against the stirrup that supported his foot and sighed as Lancelot's familiar weight and aura came up behind him. As Lancelot's hand came to rest on his shoulder, he added, "Well, come on, we have a long way to go before we can stop…unless you **WANT** to sleep in the forest?"

Since the Sarmatian men were all darkly tanned, he received a perverse pleasure in watching the Sarmatian men pale to a sickly yellow and watch as their eyes become large dilated dots of black with a small ring of color. He always found pleasure in the ways visiting people scared themselves with a little help from the legends told by himself or the other Knights and Briton's natural, mystical, magical aura. It was the perfect revenge-let the enemy's own imagination do all the work for you.

Lancelot sighed and pointed out rudely, "Sometime today Tarkan!"

He felt a small jolt of guilt in his heart as his brother eyed him with his large amber brown eyes, but he was to far removed from his ties with Tarkan and Habren to care all that much. He loved them and always would, but he did not feel the bonds of brotherhood and family with Tarkan and Habren anymore. He just wanted to get them to Hadrian's Wall and then off the Sarmatia. _Is that too much to ask? I just want all this to be done with…especially Agrimpasa! I want her **GONE!**_****

He shivered in revulsion as Agrimpasa, once again, attempted to gain his attention by giving him seductive eyes. If those didn't work, her eyes changed immediately to innocent and wounded-like, like that would make him change his mind-_yeah right! _

He turned his attention to his brother as Tarkan quickly explained about what Atilla had said about himself and the placement of Habren in life. They also told him about Tor's silent support of Atilla even though he had been dishonored. Then they told the Knights about how Tarkan, himself, had revoked his leadership and made him nothing but a common Sarmatian. He ended by saying, "Miskoc is the new leader of the Horse Tribe."

Lancelot turned to his giant-like friend and raised and eyebrow in question.

Dagonet nodded and said with absolute faith in his voice, "We can trust Miskoc. He will treat our children with respect."

Galahad was appalled when he heard all about Atilla and Tor's actions. He could see the rage boiling just under the surface of Bors' control and announced in a sinister way as his eyes narrowed into two burning slits of green, eerier fire, "May I have your permission, my king, to slit that ass', Attila's head off?"

He saw how the Knights blinked at him in shock. He even felt a smile form on his lips as Gawain's mouth opened and closed like that of a fish.

He shrugged and said heatedly and passionately, "Yes, I know, I am the least violent of us, but this man needs to be stopped! If I have to bloody my hands to do this, I'll happily do it to enact justice for all the families he's destroyed and all the potential Sarmatian children he's slaughtered!"

The Sarmatians slowly backed away from the second prince of the Wolf Tribe as his raging, atrocious, and crackling aura overwhelmed them all. They shivered as the freezing fire rolled through them. As that happened, a glacial cold wind blew across them all shocking the Sarmatians as they grabbed their cloaks and wrapped them tightly around themselves to ward off the biting cold winds. They glanced around them in fear and suspicion. Lancelot's story was still very much in their thoughts, and many couldn't help but think that Britannia was anger at them. They were also amazed to watch their bloody brothers shrug off the cold as if it were nothing but a small hindrance and not the icy mountain top problem it truly was.

Arthur shook his head and said sympathetically, "As much as I would like to see that Galahad, we cannot. He is a visitor and we must give him that courtesy. But…"

He grinned maliciously and ended, "…should he bother us to much more, I think we can help the Inish along in their dining plans for tonight!"

That's it for this chapter! I'm going away again, this time to Austin and I won't be back for a few days. There is more to this, but I thought it'd be a good time to stop! Hope you like it!


	9. Chapter 9

Reunion 8 part 2

The group, Habren noticed, was very silent like a whispering wind without the whispers to alert you it is coming. The only sound that could be heard was the clip-clop of the horses. Even though the forest canopy blocked most of the sky, Habren could see that the sun was now high above their heads-midday. She was going to open her mouth to inform the group of this, when she noticed, Arthur and her brother talking softly to one another. They were very close in fact. She was surprised by that-normally horses do **NOT** like to be in such close quarters to one another. She wanted to know what they were discussing, but when Arthur's green eyes wandered over her group she knew-they were discussing **THEM**.

She glanced around and noted that Gawain and Galahad were together and Bors and Dagonet too. That surprised her. Not that Gawain and Galahad were so close-they **ARE** brother's from the same tribe after all, but the Bear and the Horse Tribe weren't friends by any means and yet these two, the Princes of those very tribes, were as close as brothers. She blinked as Tristan floated into her line of sight and from there he seemed to flitter to and fro between the three pairs of friends and brothers. She shook her head and opened her mouth, but Bors beat her to it.

"Arthur! I'm hungry! Let's break for lunch!"

Habren watched as Arthur smiled at Bors' announcement and turned to look at the older Knight. She watched with wide eyes and Arthur chuckled and replied, "I was just waiting for you to tell us you were hungry Bors. You **ARE** the hungriest of us all, after all."

Habren was shocked to see the large Knight blush slightly as the other Knights laughed at his embarrassment.

She watched as Arthur looked about the group and said strongly, "We'll stop here."

As she dismounted, Atilla marched up to Arthur, got into his face, and demanded, "No! We should push on!"

She watched as Arthur's hand slid to his sword, which she learned was the famed Excalibur, and Lancelot's hands went above his head like he was stretching. But she knew that he was just reading himself for a confrontation-to protect Arthur, as his title demanded of him-_nay his heart demanded of him._ Reminded a nasty little voice in her head. She chose to ignore that voice though.

Arthur sighed as Atilla's strong body odor overcame his senses. He breathed in quickly and in short bursts from his mouth and replied intensely, "We are stopping here. If you are so eager to travel in the forest, which you know nothing of, go right ahead. I will not stop you. But, you'd best take along a lot of food…the native animals of the forest are carnivores-you know? Especially the **_Inish_**…they just **LOVE** fresh meat **FRESH** off the bone-**RAW**."

He smiled slightly as the older man slid away and glanced apprehensively and frightfully over his shoulders into the shadowy forest that surrounded them. Truthfully, they were only in the outer quadrant of the forest, but the forest was very dense, and the Sarmatians couldn't tell the difference either way. They actually only had twenty more minutes of travel through the forest before they reached the plains, but he and Lancelot wanted to torture his and the other Knights' wayward families a bit more, so he had decided to stop here for lunch.

As the Knights gathered all the foodstuffs from their saddlebags, Habren watched Lancelot and Arthur interact with one another. She, also, wasn't surprised when she felt a jolt of deep-seated jealousy roll through her body at the sight of her brother and his friend. Her brother was supposed to be **HER** protector, **HER** best friend, and **HER** caretaker. He had promised to return home,**_ to her_**, so he could be all those things to her and more and he had lied to her. It just wasn't fair. _What does this Arthur have that I do not?_

She sighed. It really didn't matter though-at least not to him. She could tell that he was only humoring her. Her ties to Lancelot has long since been stretched to thin on his side for him to care for her any more than an one would care for estranged cousin, and that broke her heart.

As the Knights set out the food, she quickly wiped a lone tear from her cheek and joined her brother and Arthur and asked softly, "May we talk privately? This is important."

Lancelot looked into his sister's eyes deeply. He was stunned to see a few unshed tears in her large brown eyes, but ignored them for a minute. He glanced at Arthur and saw his friend's compassionate side trying to rear its noble head. He nodded and waved her ahead of him. He snorted with suppressed laughter as she gazed at him with a look that clearly said _you've got to be kidding me…you go first!_

The First Knight led his little sister and king into the forest a few paces from the campsite and asked; "Well, what's this about Habren?"

He watched her as his arms crossed over his chest. He tilted his head to the side to show that he was listening as she started, "First, I must apologize for how Atilla is acting. It is very dishonorable and I am dishonored by his actions. I shall strive to change this dishonor by learning all I can from you and your Knights while we are traveling together."

Lancelot's eyebrows shot straight into his curly hair at those words. His eyes narrowed as he thought _that sounds like father's first words of diplomacy. What's she up to?_

He continued to listen as she smoothly talked on, "But I'm afraid that I shall not have enough time to erase my dishonor or the dishonor of the Sarmatian tribes while we travel so quickly. I realize that the Wall is close by and I am not attempting to discourage your travel plans, but I will not be able to erase the dishonor in such a short amount of time. Please, allow me and the others to return to Camelot with you and yours so we can learn of your _'blood enlightenment'_ and erase the dishonor that encompasses our bitter souls."

She took a deep breath and continued, "We need to stay in Camelot and learn of the outside world, your majesty. Our people are slowly dying out because of our archaic beliefs. Our people need to see, **to understand**, that even though the children, **our future**, aren't pureblood Sarmatian, they are still worthy of the name and the prestige of being called Sarmatian. Your kingdom, Camelot, is a perfect place for them to learn! Most of your court is comprised of pureblood Sarmatians, halfblooded-Sarmatians, and non-Sarmatians, **AND** you are all living together in perfect harmony! Your children, both males and females, are able to learn the art of war, and you have found a way to blend the religions together to make everyone happy. We can learn much from you and your kingdom, King Arthur. Please, let us stay and learn from our brother's, let us learn about how to view the outside world around us."

Arthur looked at Lancelot. His First Knight wasn't very impressed by his sister's flowery attempt to persuade them into letting the Sarmatians stay. Neither was he to be honest. There was no way he was going to let men like Atilla and Tor anywhere near the children. He was sympathetic though, and he knew Lancelot was too.

Lancelot wanted to help his little sister and ultimately the tribe and people of his youth, but he wasn't about to place his children in danger just so the people of his past could possibly learn how the rest of the world worked together. He knew that the Sarmatian people were isolated because of where they had settled, but it wasn't impossible for them to branch out and meet other races. The problem was, the Sarmatians have only interacted with the Romans and allies of Rome, and so their overall experiences with other races were poor at the very best.

Arthur sighed, shook his head, and said softly and with sincere sorrow in his husky tone, "I am sorry, but you cannot return to Camelot. Atilla's supporters are too many and I won't risk the children just so your people, **MIGHT**, learn that those of half-blooded blood are just as good as those of pureblood blood and those of non-Sarmatian blood. I'm sorry."

As the two Knights turned to go back to the campsite, they were surprised to see Miskoc close by. Apparently he was close enough to hear since he said carefully with a clear vow in his tone, "If you let us stay so we can try to enlighten out people by learning from your Utopia, I vow on my blood to punish Atilla and any others for any dishonor they commit against you and yours."

The King of Briton and his First Knight were shocked to see that the old friend of Dagonet had sliced open his palm as he made his vow. Both men knew that by binding his oath in blood, he'd have no choice but to uphold his vow and were stunned. Miskoc would have to mettle out equal justice. If Atilla killed one of the children, one of Atilla's supporters, nay Atilla, himself, would die in retribution.

The other Knights were just as shocked. They had been keeping an eye on both their leaders, by habit mostly, and had gasped at the old Sarmatian's actions. The Knights of the Round Table glanced at one another in confusion as the group of four rejoined the main group. As Arthur turned slightly shocked eyes to Dagonet's friend he asked softly, "And what is the punishment for a high dishonor? As I'm sure that those are the ones that **will** be made if you are allowed to stay in Camelot?"

Ilona, who had been keeping close to her older brother all day so she could learn more about her sister-n-law, nephew, and niece, stepped up and made a few hand signs. Her right hand made to encircle an imaginary group of people, that same hand and hand shape (pointer finger) moved down to swipe at her left arm's elbow, and then both hands left and right, went up and down-palm down to palm up (left) and palm up to palm down (right). All the people that had been eating close by, so they could hear and follow the conversation, knew that she had signed _The Sarmatian punishment is death._ (NOTE these are REAL ASL signs!)

Before Arthur or Lancelot could refute the punishment that would be nettled out on their behalf, Dagonet and Bors entered the conversation from where they were seated, on large logs on the opposite side of the ring, and Bors exclaimed loudly and happily, "What for? The _Inish_ have Atilla and Tor and tha' Pappy fellow, marked for death anyways! Why should we bother bringin' them back to Camelot?"

His very loud statement was followed by an unnerving stretch of silence. The Knights and Habren and Ilona glanced all around them and found that all the Sarmatians had heard Bors' exclamation of promised death and were looking about the forest clearing.

Their fear was palatable in the misty air and all the Knights smiled smugly to one another-their plan was working! Now all, Merlin, Merkin, and Duncan's men had to do was follow through with the scare and then their prank would be complete! It was too bad though that they wouldn't be in the forest when dusk fell and the _Inish_ were supposed to come out and play though. They'd be camping near the edge of Bala Lake. Fortunately for the Knights and unfortunately for the visiting Sarmatians, the natural mists that rise at dusk will obscure the Sarmatians vision and Pappy, Tor, and Atilla will befall the powers of the _Inish_.

As the group ate in silence, Habren noticed that the same three groups from before made yet another appearance in the circle. She tilted her head and asked, "Why do you all group together in pairs and his Lordship Tristran sits alone? I noticed this earlier today, too."

Gawain looked at Lancelot's sister and saw that she was sincerely curious and answered back with an open smile, "When we were first conscripted to Rome's outlaying post, Briton, we arrived not knowing anything about this land. Our father's stories did not give the land justice and we found ourselves out of our element, as it were. In an effort to survive, we paired up. Since there were only fifty of us, and we had a **LONG** fifteen years ahead of us, we decided that in order to survive on this land, we needed to make as many friends as we possibly could. So, the tribal boundaries that had separated us on our journey to Briton melted away and we befriended those not of our tribe in the spirit of self-preservation. In the end, the friendships made in truce, became everything the word friendship truthfully means."

He watched as his little sister, Agrimpasa, cast Lancelot a coy look once again mixed with a look full of confusion as she asked, "Then how did you, Lancelot, manage to gain the friendship of a Roman, never mind the trust of your commanding officer? You were already paired off with another Sarmatian, right?"

Gawain watched as Lancelot opened his mouth to reply when his sister butted in once again with mock horror as her hands lightly slapped against her cheeks, "Don't tell me you let an innocent Sarmatian die just so you could earn the Roman's friendship?"

Gawain's face reddened in anger for his friend as he lunged to his feet and yelled into her face, "Shut your mouth you…snake-faced little barbarian whore!"

The entire group, Sarmatian and Briton both, froze as the words flew from the normally calm, easy-going, Knight's mouth.

Gawain's face reddened once again, only this time in embarrassment, as he added proudly, "Lancelot's partner, Yvain, died that very first year."

Galahad snorted, nodded, and added in a fake superior tone, "He thought that he could handle scouting the forests beyond the wall without Lancelot and with little in the way of armor or weapons, so he traveled light. **He didn't have a chance.** The Woads that had lived there were bloodthirsty and quickly over powered Yvain with their battle tactics. Where Romans fight up front and face-to-face, the Woads, at the time, fought using guerilla warfare. They hid in the woods and established traps all around the Wall's path through the forest. Yvain was caught long before we even left the wall to follow him. Luckily for us, Tristran wasn't like Yvain, and we found his dead body easily and avoided all the traps."

Lancelot glared at Agrimpasa and ended, "Arthur gained my trust that very first day. How he did that you don't need to know-just know that he did. Since I had saved us all from another fifty years of servitude **(referenced to The Sun and Moon of House Lyon-chapter 3 or 4 I think)**, the other Knights seemed to want to follow my lead. I became lieutenant. With that rank came the responsibilities of lieutenant too. That meant that Arthur and I had to work in close quarters with one another for a long time. It was just easier to become best friends and brothers then too be constantly at each others necks and second guessing each other-which worked. Luckily for us we did work together because our teamwork has saved our arses many times."

Habren listened to the fight with wide eyes and open ears. It seemed like life had forced these rag-tagged bunches of princes to work together or die. With that in mind, she finally understood how the bonds of brotherhood between her brother and Arthur worked. She finally understood why her bond was overpowered by Arthur and Lancelot's bond to one another. It was simple-they just **HAD** too. If they hadn't, they would have died a long time ago, and probably would be cold and buried in the plains of Badon Hill with all the other Knights of Sarmatia that had lost their lives to the cold and unforgiving lands of the once Roman controlled territory.

Pappy, who was silently eating his share of hard travel bread, raw carrots, potatoes, and a jug of Briton mead, shivered as his eyes tried to pierce the dense, shadowy forest. He had been doing this all morning and was so nervous he had drunk all of his mead. He was parched, but refused to ask for more or ask for water. He felt jilted by Lancelot. He had waited for more than twenty years to wed his friend's sister, Habren, but he was refused on the grounds that he had been Lancelot's choice and Lancelot wasn't there to establish his power and control of the Lion Tribe, so Melean had been chose by Queen Ama to wed her eldest daughter. He was so angry. He has loved Habren for longer than he could remember, and had waited patiently for his chance to wed, Habren. When Lancelot refused to come home, Lancelot had ruined his chances of happiness.

He glanced once again into the dark, misty forest and shifted a bit closer to the circular pit in the center of the group. It wasn't that he was afraid of the beings in the forest, he'd just like to make it all the more harder for them to catch him-_yeah right! I'm scared shtless of them!_

He cleared his throat and asked, "How much longer until we're out of this forest?"

He clenched his jaw together as Lancelot smirked at him and answered, "We have about half and hour to an hour, why? You aren't scared, are you?"

"No…" he grounded out as he added, "I just wanted to know how much longer we had until we'd be free of the nasty ghosts. Since ghosts are bound to something, the forest, the faster we'd be away from them so they can't harm us."

He nearly bit his entire bottom lip off in rage as Lancelot and the other Knights laughed at his words. He felt the fear that had been stewing uncontrollably in his gut; threaten to move up his throat as Lancelot said eerily and the winds began to blow harshly across the group of Sarmatians, "The _Ini_s_h_ aren't just bound to one place, my Sarmatian friend. They are free to wander the lands of Britannia as she is their mother and she loves to see them wander across her emerald lands having fun and playing with those who aren't welcome on her lands."

Pappy gulped and scooted away from his old friend, as Lancelot's brown eyes seemed to gain a strange gleam in them as he said those words and the sun started its waning path. It was like Lancelot had conjured the winds with Britannia's love. That was when he knew; Lancelot was not a _Son of Sarmatia_ anymore, but a _Child of Briton_.


	10. Chapter 10

Reunion 10

Chapter 8 part 2

When their midday meal was complete, Arthur stood up, whipped his hands clean of breadcrumbs, and said smoothly, "It's time to get back on the road. If we want to reach Bala Lake by nightfall, we need to get moving. Tristran, ride on ahead."

He saw from the corner of his eye, as his scout and friend nodded and silently mounted his gray spotted mare and leave just as silently as he always had. He smiled. Tristran was his best scout, and he always wood. He couldn't wait until Dunham was old enough to start learning from his father. He had a feeling that the son of Tristran would be just as skilled as his father. He also couldn't wait for his own son, Mordwen, to become old enough to start his own training, but until then he was more than happy to rely on his old friend and scout. _Now, I just have to find a way to make these Sarmatians leave. I am truly saddened at how their lives have become so ruined by the Romans, but that's not my problem. I will **NOT** let them come back to Camelot. That'll put the children in danger!_

As they trotted down the thin forest road, Habren noticed that the entire group was riding two by two. She glanced behind her and saw that her fellow Sarmatians was having a bit of trouble keeping their steeds from straying farther away from each other. She had to bite her lip at how far from their once proud ancestors they had fallen. She looked ahead to her brother and his fellow Knights and saw how easily they controlled their horses and realized that the Knights were the true epitome of the Sarmatian Knights and the Sarmatian people of old. That was a very hard realization for her to arrive at. Her people had prided themselves on the fact that the ones who Rome stole from them had to be reeducated on their Sarmatian roots when they returned home, but she understood now that it was the Sarmatians that were taken that were the ones whom remained true to their ancient past.

She closed her eyes and thought about whom her proud ancestors once were _our ancestors are born from the love of the God of War and Hippolyta! We are the descendants of the Amazons and Scythians. The Amazons were a prideful warrior race of women who bedded any man who met their expectations. Our people are a mixture of races and blood! Our people have fallen so far from those ideals thanks to the awful Romans…and then there are our people's horse skills. Our people back home are losing their skills and I've become depressingly clear to the fact that those of our sons who leave retain their horse skills because they have the desire and the need too. Haaa, our people are no longer what they once were._

She bowed her head at that. It was depressing to see just how low their people had fallen. She glanced up ahead as the sound of horse hoof-beats came from a head of them. The Sarmatians froze up, as if they were reading themselves for a fight, but the Knights, she noticed, were at easy. Then from behind a large bushy tree, Tristran appeared. She saw that he had glanced at them all with an ease that amazed her. His eyes had simply passed over them all and he had deduced that they were all, all right and not in any trouble.

He turned to Arthur and said dispassionately, "The road is clear."

Arthur nodded and said, "Good, lets get going."

He turned back towards the Sarmatians and said over his shoulder, "We are about to leave the forest, so stay close together because the open land is actually more dangerous than the forest."

Atilla snorted rudely as he rode up to the man that was holding his mission back, because it was King Arthur's fault! Their sons would have returned if this **MAN** hadn't of brainwashed their boys into believing in him and his lies. He knew exactly what Camelot was-a simple place for simple, puny, pacifists! This so-called kingdom was **NOT** a place for good, honest-to-good, bloodthirsty Sarmatian Knights! _I can't believe how far from their roots, these men have fallen. Our people are descended from the greatest God ever, Ares, God of War! In their blood lies divinity! We are the superior race on this earth!_ This **MAN** has ruined an entire generation of Sarmatians because he has corrupted our sons and made their sons abhor the bloodshed that boils in their veins.

_My own prince, Dagonet, is a man of peace and healing for Gods sakes!_ With a sigh he remembered fondly how Dagonet once acted so long ago…**_Lord Atilla! Lord Atilla! Look! I killed a stag!_**

_**Good for you, lad! Now, lets skin it and then you can go hunt the orphan half-blood, Rolanani!**_

_**Atilla smiled evilly as Dagonet's eyes brightened in excitement and bloodlust! **_

_**Oh yes sir! Right away, My Lord!**_

He came back to the present just in time to see a low hanging branch, "Shit!"

Arthur halted his horse, turned it back around, and he asked pointedly and with unconcern in his voice, as he leaned over the fallen man, "Are you okay?"

Atilla grumbled something and said as he pushed himself back to his feet, "I am fine!"

Arthur shrugged his shoulders and said lazily, "If you say so."

As he swung back into his saddle, Atilla narrowed his eyes at the obvious dismissal from the King of Briton and with a growl he returned to the last statement he heard before his fond memory, "Oh really, and how is a effortless grasslands more dangerous than a forest?"

Arthur gazed at the man and said as he crossed the boundary of the forest into the emerald grassy hills, "There is nothing to hide behind if we are attacked. I'm surprised you didn't know this yourself…after all, Sarmatia **IS** grasslands _'as far as the eye can see'_, right?"

Arthur smiled smugly as the elder growled at him and grudgingly moved back to his place in the line. Arthur could tell that Atilla wasn't used to having people go against his commands, and he was reveling in his power over the prejudice man. He couldn't wait for tonight when the _Inish_ would come out to play! He also knew that Atilla wouldn't be steaming mad by his answer. His last sentence had been said in fluent Sarmatian after all! Atilla had to be incensed that him, a Roman and a dirty half-blood, had managed to learn their honorable language!

Lancelot glanced behind him as they exited the forest and sighed. He had noticed his sister becoming increasingly depressed as they reached the edge of the forest. He pulled back and led his horse to trot close to Habren's.

As he reached her side, he asked lightly, "So, how has life been since I left Sarmatia?"

He felt bad. He had left his family all those years ago with a promise to return after his fifteen years were finished, but he had remained here in Briton because he had fallen in love. Out of all his family, he had missed Habren most of all. He felt obligated to ask her how her life has been since he left because it was his job as her big brother to protect her and he had **not** done his job.

He watched as Habren's eyes grew slightly dimmer as she explain in a droll type of voice, "Not much, really. After you left, mother gave birth to the others and mother engaged me to Melean-against my will, might I add. Then I was forced into marring him and Pappy became my number one stalker. When your fifteen years were up, I was so excited. I thought that with your return, you could annul my marriage and return our tribe to its former glory. Then there were all the raids from the Huns, Saxons, and the Romans who returned more often for more of our sons, so they could protect their precious empire…"

As she talked, Lancelot felt a swell of disappointment in himself rise in his belly and he lowered his head in shame. He couldn't believe that his sister had to suffer through an unwanted marriage just because he didn't return home. He glanced up as two other horses and their riders came up beside them. He raised an eyebrow as Habren raised and hand and said dispassionately, "The man with blond hared man with brown eyes is Melean and the other is Pappy."

Lancelot raised an eyebrow at their introductions, but decided to think about it later. He pulled out one of his swords, placed the point under Melean's neck just above his Adam's apple, and said seriously, "I may not have been there for Habren as much as I wanted to be, but she is still my little sister and I am still her older brother. If you do anything to hurt her, I cut you open stem to stern-understand?"

Melean eyed the sharp shiny sword nervously and gulped as the sword nicked him lightly, and said in a shaky whisper, "I understand?"

Habren felt a swell of love and warmth raise in her heart at her brother's words. He did love her after all! Perhaps there was still hope! Perhaps she could actually persuade him to come home!

Lancelot nodded, replaced his sword, and said lightly to Pappy, "Hey Pappy, sorry if I came off a bit rough earlier, but I had to make a point to the others. Briton isn't a nice place to those who do not know her secrets. And if those who live here or visit here, do not learn her secrets, they will perish under her powers."

Lancelot smiled slightly as Pappy glanced around them and asked nervously, "Those _Inish_ **_really_** won't kill us, right?"

Lancelot couldn't help the grin that formed on his lips and he felt a laugh bubble in his gut as Pappy's face became even more nervous. He watched the sweat bead up on Pappy's upper lip and forehead. He knew that the _Inish_ frightened Pappy, Tor, and Atilla but he also knew that the real panic would start, later on that night, by the lake.

He shrugged and said in a voice that didn't leave Pappy with much hope, "They come and go as they please. Sometimes they kill those they've marked, and sometimes they don't. It all comes down to chance and how well you play their games."

He leaned in closer and ended with raised, knowing eyes, "Like I've been warning you the entire time since we started out this morning."

He watched Pappy gulp back the bile in his throat and sat back as Arthur came forward and said, "It's getting late. We'll be camping here tonight. By this time tomorrow, we should be four hours from Hadrian's Wall."

From the other side of his line of sight, he saw his younger brother, Tarkan, ride up to them and ask warily, "Just what is our path anyways, King Arthur? I mean we've been through that forest and now we're on grasslands. What is next?"

Lancelot glanced at his friend and answered instead, "Next, is Bala Lake. We'll arrive any minute now actually."

Before anyone could say anything after that, the group came upon a beautiful lake that had a sea of white lights reflected back upon them.

As the horses came to a stop, Gawain called back, "We're here! And it looks like the lake is going to be beautiful tonight!"

Galahad smiled and said as they all dismounted, "Well, it'll be beautiful until the mists roll in and the day gives way to the night."

Arthur glanced around at the Sarmatians and commanded, "Come, Lancelot, we have wood to gather for a fire. After all, we don't want the _Inish_ to get to close to our circle, right?"

He watched as Lancelot winked at him and said, "Yeah, I'll be right there in a minute."

The King smiled at his friend and nodded. After he had politely excused himself from the small group, he heard Lancelot say lackadaisically, "The _Inish_ aren't the only dangers of this land. Just remember, Briton is a land of magic and mystic. You need to watch everything, because anything and everything can become a creature of Britannia."

He smiled in goodbye and quickly joined Arthur. Arthur was seated on a rolling knoll and was sharpening Excalibur with his sharpening stone.

"So, what did you and Habren talk about?"

He watched as he friend sighed and replied in a depressed tone, "I should have gone back like you asked me too five years ago Arthur. Habren has been thorough some bad things because I wasn't there for her, and I feel bad about it. But I do not regret staying, either. What does that make me?"

Arthur sighed and said softly as he placed a warm loving hand on his best friend's shoulder, "That makes you a wonderful man who didn't want to disappoint the ones he loves. You are a warm hearted man Lance, you just have to make your sister see that it wasn't that you didn't want to return home, but that circumstances at the time didn't allow you to return to Sarmatia. I'm sure she'll understand. She's a very intelligent woman."

He smiled as Lancelot nodded and smiled back at him. He always felt good when he could help his First Knight come to terms over what was bothering him. Now, if only he could get Gawain and Galahad to stop making fools of themselves every time some new challenge presented itself to them. He shook his head as he remembered their last foolish undertaking **_it was three days before the Sarmatians arrived and Gawain and Galahad were training by themselves in the courtyard while the newest set of trainees watched on. As they lunged again and again at one another with their swords flying through the air and in between them, an older trainee, one who was due to undertake the last challenge, stood up and challenged, "I bet that the two of you, my Lords, cannot get through the Pit!"_**

_**Arthur shook his head as the two brother Knights broke apart from their fight and exclaimed cheerfully, "We accept!"**_

Arthur sighed as he ended that thought _they **DID** win against the Pit, but they had bumps, bruises, and scrapes **ALL** over their bodies and Enys and Alma had to wrap each and every one of them. They were also unable to sit properly for the next three days!_

"Arthur! We've set up, but we need the wood." Piped in Bors as he pounded his king on the back to get his attention.

Arthur squawked as he fell from the knoll and into the flat grounds under the knoll. He blushed slightly and eyed Bors with a sinister eye. He saw Bors chuckled slightly in nervousness and tug at his collar uncomfortably. H nodded in satisfaction and said, "Right, of course, come one Lance."

His friend snorted and said with crossed arms and a teasing smile, "What do you mean, **_'lets go Lance'_**, I've been waiting for you all this time, my love!"

Arthur sneered at his friend without the sharpness that usually goes along with the sneering look, and said, "Oh shut it **_my love_**, and lets just get the firewood!"

Arthur felt his face burning slightly from his embarrassment, but he held his head high and followed his friend as they searched for the wood.

A few minutes later, they found enough wood for their fire circle and returned. They found the other Knights grouped together with the other Sarmatians fighting over a killed stag.

"What's going on here!" he demanded as the two dropped their wood near the circle that had been prepared by Tristran.

Tristran sneered at the Sarmatians and replied, "We are having a dispute over staying here. They seem to think that we should continue on. But what they don't seem to understand is that this is the last place to water the horses for the next day until we reach the wall."

He smiled darkly at them and added as he turned towards his leaders, "Plus, I don't think they want to stay here in case the _Inish_ come for them all to kill them."

Lancelot snorted and said as he crossed his arms, "Ah, they are afraid of the _Inish_, I'd be more frightened of the Lady of the Lake. She can be a bit ugly to those who hurt her feelings."

He watched as Tarkan asked haltingly, "Who is…the…Lady…of…the Lake?"

He smiled as Galahad explained with a large smile, "She's the magical yet physical manifestation of Britannia's human form! She placed this lake here because it's the only one here from the forest to the Wall. So, she gets a lot of visitors. She's a very social person, you know. But, if you get on her bad side, well…."

The Sarmatians gulped as they edged away from the lake and eyed the path from which they had just come from warily.


	11. Chapter 11

Reunion 11

Chapter eight part three

The Knights simply smiled at the Sarmatians and their reactions to Lancelot and Galahad's words. As the fire grew and Tristran skinned and gutted the stag, Tor ambled up to the circle of Knights and asked roughly, "So we're staying here tonight?"

Bors looked up at his younger brother, eyed his oily, shaggy, dirty blond hair and water blue eyes and said in an unconcerned voice, "Yeah, and what of it? As Tristran said, this **IS** the last place for watering the horses until we get to the Wall."

He watched his younger brother's shoulder slump as he said grudgingly, "Fine…bloody bastards all of you."

Bors stood up and asked threatening, "What was that, Tor?"

Bors eyed Tor with an ill disguised veil of disgust. He couldn't help but shiver in revulsion at what his brother and their tribe had become. What really churned his stomach was the fact that he could have grown up to be exactly like Tor and the others of the Bear Tribe if he had stayed in Sarmatia. He would have grown up to be a prejudicial, pure blooded, blood-thirsty barbaric leader of a Tribe slowly killing itself. He was eternally grateful to his ancestors.

Thanks to them and their oath to serve Rome for fifteen years, he had been able to escape the Bear Tribe's bigotry and learn to love and grow.

Thanks to Rome and Arthur, he had grown up and became a man he could respect. He, if he was honest with himself, pitied Tor and the others. They thought that they were honoring their ancestors, but in truth, they were deplorable people deluding themselves with grandeur of divine blood and godhood.

Tor stared at his older brother and swallowed heavily. He couldn't believe that his own brother was threatening him. Bors had been his biggest idol growing up. He knew his brother was different from his memories of his brother from childhood, but he never thought that his own flesh and blood would be dangerous to him. He hated Arthur for changing his brother from a bloodthirsty, hard, **STRONG** leader-in-the-making to a peace loving **WEAK** Briton Lord _or should I say, Marquis Bors Chiefton Beran, Lord of the House of Beran, Governor of Kameland City, Lord of Cadbury and Knight of the Round Table._

Arthur gazed at the brothers, sighed, and said as he stood up, "Well, let's just get dinner started and then go to bed. We will be rising early to reach the Wall."

The Knights quickly got out their dining bags filled with iron plates, bowls, spoons, forks, and knives and grabbed whatever they could from the pot of stew Tristran had made. The Sarmatians followed.

Habren watched the group of Knights in awe. Their interactions with one another were something magical to her-especially the relationship between Arthur and her brother. There was something there. She couldn't explain it, but she could see it as clearly as she could see the stars in the sky. Arthur and Lancelot were seated side-by-side and whispering close together. She had to smile as Lancelot threw back his head and laughed at something Arthur had said. She grinned when Arthur laughing threw a punch and landed a hit on Lancelot's upper shoulder. She had to suppress a giggle as her brother acted like he was dying and pleaded with Arthur to save his life. As he sat back down beside Arthur, the two men leaned in close together and started to talk seriously.

She didn't know what they were talking about, but she knew it was serious.

Agrimpasa, who was seated away from the group but still close enough to overhear what they were saying, grimaced as her brothers nudged one another and laughed at the antics of her husband-to-be and their king. She refused to acknowledge the fact that **her** Lancelot was friends with a blood-awful Roman bastard. She didn't care whatsoever that he chose to stay. All she cared about was getting Lancelot back to Sarmatia and away from his slut of a wife and bastard children. _If I have to, I'll join Attila and follow his plan in getting them home because I **know** he has one!_

"Arthur, I think this is going a bit too far. Our people could be hurt if the Sarmatians managed to kill them."

His friend sighed and replied, "I know, but Merlin has them and we have no way to contact them to let them know to let this go."

Lancelot sighed and nodded back-it was true. He could only hope that their subjects were trained well enough to hold out in the fight against the bloodthirsty men of his past.

When dinner was finished, Arthur said as he stretched, "Well, we'd best get some shut eye."

Lancelot stood up and said strongly, "I'll take first watch, Arthur. You get some sleep, okay."

The Sarmatians watched in disbelief as the roman bastard **ACTUALLY** followed a lowly Sarmatian's orders.

As everyone fell asleep, Attila glanced around and eyed Lancelot. He was facing away from him and the other Sarmatians, so he sat up silently and edged over to Tor and his few remaining supports.

"So what are we going to do?" asked Artur as he rubbed his head and glanced around warily. He wasn't too happy about being here, but he had no choice in the matter. He was antsy about whoever this _Lady of the Lake_ was not to mention the _Inish_. He feared that they'd come to take him even though he wasn't marked by them. The bottom line was his beliefs mirrored Attila's-he was sunk if the _Inish_ attack.

Attila smirked evilly and said, "Simple, we wait until we get to the Wall and hogtie them all to our horses and drag their sorry asses back home where they belong. If they object, we'll threaten to kill their families, and make them watch as we murder their friend and king."

The other nodded. They weren't to sure about Attila's plan, but he had been one of their people's greatest leaders. Even though he had been dismissed as Leader by Prince Tarkan, Attila was still a master of their tribes.

Lancelot sighed as he walked along the lake's edge. He knew that the Picts would be acting like attackers, or more importantly the _Inish_, but he couldn't help but think that they were taking this a little too far.

As he arrived back at the campsite, he spied his siblings, brother-n-law, and childhood friend waiting up for him.

When he sat down, Habren smiled at him and said, "This place is beautiful Lancelot! I've never seen such a place!"

He nodded and said with a satisfied sigh, "Yeah, this place is pretty beautiful place. Emmy and I had our honeymoon here. This is where my precious twins, Erlina and Enid, were conceived."

Habren tilted her head curiously and asked eagerly because she was sincerely interested in her brother's life, "They were? That's wonderful! This place truly is a magical place."

She continued, "How did you and Lady Emogen meet, Lancelot?"

She watched with envy and a hint of jealousy as her eldest brother's eyes blurred inward with love, desire, and absolute trust and he answered in a happy dazed tone, "We met on our last mission for Rome. We had to rescue a Roman family that lived far north of the wall, deep in Woad territory. You see, Saxons were invading Briton from the highlands and the Roman family was important to Rome and to the Pope. I met her when Arthur demanded that the Roman mercenaries open a locked, dirty, hastily built shack. Once there, we found horrors beyond anything I've ever seen before. The people were dead yet still they hung there-their bodies were nothing but skin and bones. But still the priests prayed over their dead and decaying bodies. We also found newly dead bodies still bleeding out and some that were crawling with bugs and other vulgar things."

He continued in the same tone, "It was there that I found Emmy still alive in a small three by four cell. She had dislocated hips, fingers, and she hadn't eaten in nearly a week, but she was the most beautiful person I had ever seen. We also recovered two more people from that hell hole: Guinevere, Emmy's cousin, and Dagonet's adopted son, Lucus, whom went by the name Lucan at the time. On the way back to the wall, we became close. When the Saxons attacked and I was fatally wounded, Emmy got her friend, Gawain's wife, Alma, to heal me. By the time I was healed enough to travel, I didn't want to leave her. I love her."

Melean frowned and ignored Lancelot's story as he pointed out tersely, "You stayed **HERE** for your honeymoon. What about the _Inish?_"

Melean growled as his brother-n-law laughed in his face and said, "**I** do not have anything to fear from the _Inish_ or the _Lady of the Lake_, Melean. I have lived here for twenty years. I have learned how to live in peace with Britannia, and I am also married to a child of Briton's royal line. Britannia will never hurt me."

He smirked and ended roughly as Agrimpasa slithered up to him and placed a hand on his forearm, "Plus, my children are the heirs of Britannia herself."

He pushed Agrimpasa's hand off his arm and said, "Lady Agrimpasa, I am a happily married man, I do not accept your advances nor do I like them. Do **NOT** try again."

Tarkan glanced to his sister and nodded. He cleared his throat and asked again, "So brother, why didn't you come home?"

He watched as his brother took a deep breath and answered yet again with an exasperate sigh, for he felt like he had answered this question more than enough times before, "I didn't go home because I was fatally injured during a battle against invading Saxons five years ago. Plus, I fell in love with Emogen. She, at the time, was one of the Three Ladies of Power. She couldn't leave her people, and I loved her enough to stay. And then, Arthur got married. I stayed. Then, I proposed. I got married. Then, I became Marquise Lancelot Shieldguard Lyon, Lord of the House of Lyon, Lord of Badbury, Knight Commander, King Protectorate, and the First Knight of the Round Table. When Emmy was nine moons into her birthing, Arthur did bid me to go home once. I didn't go because she was so late into her pregnancy. I wouldn't, couldn't go when she needed me here at home. I couldn't leave. And then, when the twins were old enough to travel, Emmy gave birth to Cadman."

He shrugged and ended, "Circumstances just didn't allow me to leave Briton. I'm sorry that you suffered, but I don't regret staying. My family is here now; in Briton…I'm sorry."

Agrimpasa clenched her teeth together as Lancelot continued to talk on and on about his family and kids. Agrimpasa shook her head and ignored Lancelot's warning looks. She knew Lancelot. He may hate her advances, but he'd never do anything to hurt her; Once a gentleman, always a gentleman.

Lancelot gritted his teeth as Pappy said as he crossed his arms, "You **HAVE** to let us stay, Lancelot! We've already promised to kill those who harm your children! What more do you want from us?"

Lancelot ignored Pappy's question as a small cooing noise came softly from the lake. He looked up and saw the waters bubbling and yelled out in warning as an arrow sailed over his head, "**_INISH! The Lady is here too!_**"

The Knights jumped to their feet as two dozen blue and black costumed Picts, young teenagers, popped out of the lake with a beautiful blue blond hared oceanic eyed woman dressed in a pure, silky, white, fluttering dress.

Screams came from everywhere and Galahad knew that the Picts acting like _Inish_ were not only before him but all around the campsite. He saw the Sarmatians pick up their weapons ready for battle. Most of them had never fought in a climate similar to Briton, and he knew that they'd quickly become disoriented by the fog and windy weather. Galahad saw their fear and it gave him a perverse pleasure to watch as his once loved people were brought to their knees. It was a passion he would be able to test out at once for he quickly found himself bombarded with enemies, all rushing forward to engage and (act-like) kill him. Clearly he wasn't the main target of their attack, but he was ready for a fight.

The front men in the line did not stand a chance against his sudden rage, blood was spilled and non-fatal wounds were cast on their bodies. Galahad groaned as he watched how easily they were being nicked. It looked like his trainees would be in for even more training when they got back to the castle. Galahad fought off each strike they sent flying at him, and promised himself that he'd be there for them in the future for anything they needed. It was a testament to him and his trainees' loyalty to him. He was honored to see just how loyal to him and the other Knights their people were. They were toying with him, and he was toying back, but the important part was-the Sarmatians didn't know. He only prayed that none of the subjects were killed during this scrimmage-attack.

He smiled slightly as three of the Inish disguised Picts surrounded Attila and as the two in front of the old man held his attention, the third, and his own second-n-command actually, Roderik, bashed Attila ruthlessly on the head. It seemed very quick to him, but he knew more than an hour had passed when Attila, Artur, and Tor were thrown over the Inish's shoulders. Seconds later, the _Inish_ vanished into the mists of the Lake, as the **_Lady of the Lake_** raised her arms to command the mists to hide her precious children, in the general direction of the forest, never to be seen again once they vanished into the thick, moist, webby mists.

When the sounds of battle dwindled to nothing, Galahad heard Arthur count off, as was normal for him ever since they lost Sir Percival to the mists nineteen years ago, "Arthur! Clean!"

He sheathed his sword as Lancelot echoed, "Lancelot! Clean!"

He started walking towards the last place he saw the campsite when Bors and Dagonet added, "Bors! Small cut to the arm!" "Dagonet! A few bruises to the legs!"

He reached his bedroll as Gawain appeared through the mists and said, "Gawain! Clean!"

He nodded at his brother, slightly relieved that he was unhurt; even though he knew the Picts wouldn't hurt them seriously and echoed, 'Galahad! Clean!"

He sat down as the mists vanished leaving Tristran and his sister, Ilona, right in front of him, "Tristran! Clean!"

Galahad nodded to them both and said, "And you Ilona? How are you fairing?"

He watched the young woman nod and smiled at her. He liked her very much if only for the fact that she was Tristran's baby sister and she opposed Attila.

Habren heaved a sigh and sat down next to Lancelot as Pappy exclaimed happily, "They didn't take me! They didn't take me! I'm **ALIVE!**"

She cocked her head to the side and asked with wide disbelieving eyes, "How is that possible! I thought you said that they took all those who they marked for death?"

She watched as her brother's eyes twinkled in laughter as he answered, "No, I said they will take them or they won't. I **SAID** it was a game of chance that they will play with those whom they've marked. Obviously Pappy beat those _Inish,_ **at their own game**, and Artur and Attila didn't."

Attila, Tor, and Artur groaned in pain as they attempted to return to the land of consciousness. As his old eyes attempted to focus above him, Attila felt all his blood drain from the very veins in his face; for above him was a luminous woman with otherworldly, oddly blank yet actively-full, oceanic blue eyes.

Her face was pale and sickly white. He tried to crawl closer to Tor or Artur as her voice echoed throughout his head making his already voluminous headache expand to his neck and eyes, "You will be judged mortal. So mote it be!"

Sorry that this took so long! But, since work has started again, the chapters will be slower in coming. Plus, what with my other stories this will be updated once a week.


	12. Chapter 12

Sorry this is taking so long, but I'm attempting to write a legend of Britannia all by myself with a little help from one of my Merlin books.

Reunion 12

Habren bit her lip and gnawed the inside of her mouth as she asked hesitantly, "Should we try and get them back?"

Of course, she wasn't very concerned for the three Sarmatians taken, but she felt obligated to ask in their stead.

Lancelot eyed her and asked in disbelief as the other's gathered around them, "You're **ACTUALLY** worried about those three?"

He watched his sister's eyes rolled up into the back of her head as she answered with a un-lady-like snort, "No!"

His face split into a large grin as Habren tilted her head and finished with a superior air, "I just felt obligated to ask. I could careless what happens to those horrible waists of space. Now what are we going to do?"

Lancelot tilted his head to the side as he felt his little brother slide up to him and added, "We aren't stay here after **THIS**, right?"

Lancelot rolled his eyes as Arthur came to his right side and said as he placed a hand on his neck-a familiar gesture that spoke volumes of their friendship to the other Sarmatians because it symbolized that they trusted one another completely, "We ride, the night is wasted and the _Inish_ will return to this spot to celebrate their catch and have a celebratory feast."

Agrimpasa snorted and said as she crossed her arms, "Some **_'GREAT'_** king you are, **KING** Arthur. You can't even control the very creatures that make up your kingdom! What's next, you'll lose control of the people too?"

Before any of the Knights could come to their friend and king's defense, Miskoc placed a hard and commanding on her shoulder and said in a threateningly, lethal voice, "You, shut your mouth and do **NOT** speak again…child…else should something bad happen to you."

Agrimpasa paled as the others laughed uproariously at her. She glared at the other royals because to them, she was nothing but a pathetic, sluttish, woman who could claim nothing but a, as of now, broken engagement, and they were taking great joy from her pain and humiliation.

Divina, Sir Dean's second-n-command, was having the time of her life! When the Lord-Knights of Briton had asked for volunteers to scare-prank their old family members, she had jumped eagerly on to the band-wagon. She loved playing practical jokes on anyone she could, and while she played the prank of the visitors, she could also fight against the Knights. She practically worshiped the ground the original seven Knights of the Round Table walked on.

She glanced behind her and smirked to herself. She and fifteen other volunteers had taken to dressing up as the mythical _Lady of the Lake_ and the demons, _Inish_. She was enjoying herself immensely!

She raised an eyebrow as the eldest of the three, _wasn't his name Atla, Atill, At-something…wasn't it? Oh yeah! Attila, Tor, and Artur! That's their names. I can't believe that they would want to harm the heirs…_groaned and started to roll around along the ground.

Attila groaned as he tried to push himself away from the abnormally dressed woman. His once peaceful state of unconsciousness and his security and illusion of the warmth of a beautiful Sarmatian woman in his bed was destroyed when two more groans banged throughout his already vastly bruised head.

As he attempted to push himself up into a sitting position, he realized his hands were tied tightly behind his back. They were tied so tightly, in fact, that his wrists already bore raw, bloody rope burns. He gritted his teeth and snarled at the woman above them all.

When she smirked and crossed her arms above him, he wanted to flog her so badly!

Attila couldn't suppress the shiver of fear and revulsion as her frosty, oceanic blue orbs bore holes into them all.

Tor felt like an insolent boy. With one frozen glance from this Lady, _this **Lady of the Lake**_, he transformed into a whimpering, boy-fool. He ducked his head in shame when Artur shot him a sickening, disappointed look.

As Artur opened his big mouth, Tor couldn't help but think _that bastard Bors wouldn't be afraid of this woman…_

Artur's lips curled up in disgust as he eyed the whimpering tribal leader of the Bear Tribe. It was disgraceful! It was a large, foul slight to him that Tor would have to pay in full-in the Ancient Sarmatian way. Here he was, thousands of miles away from home, and his _'oh so brave'_ tribal leader was acting like a weak baby! _NO! That's an insult to our strong and proud Bear Babes…he's weak like a pathetic wolf babe!_

As Attila opened his mouth to demand for his release, for he cared nothing for the other two, Artur, Bors childhood rival, roared in a superior demand, "Release us woman! Who are you! Why have you taken us! You have no right to hold us captive!"

Divina, acting as the Lady of the Lake, pursed her lips together and answered in an watery-divine tone, which she had practiced for more time than she could ever remember practicing on her archery marksmanship, "I, **mortal**, am the Lady of the Lake, the Lady Nimue; I, **mortal**, guard the gates to the Otherworld. You three have endangered Britannia's children, and so you must pay for your transgressions."

Attila rolled his eyes, he remembered her roar from before and thought to himself with a scowl _I've done nothing…yet…but my plan is still do-able. All I have to do is escape from these…things…_

Artur tried to jump to his feet, but he crashed harshly back to the rocky ground and moaned. He slowly raised his head and groaned again as he saw his feet were tied up as much as his hands were.

Instead, he glared fiercely at the woman and her blue-black demons as they edged closer, even as he tried to gather his courage to face the demons, he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming fear lodge itself in his gut, and roared, "We have done no wrong!"

Divina ignored him, turned to her fellow _'actors'_, and nodded. The men and women disguised as the dreaded _Inish_ roared with approval as they raised their spears into the air and started to yell and chant as.

The three Sarmatians watched on in horror and ill-awe as the _Inish_, their captors, quickly built three fires and roughly man-handled them to the center of their large fire-circles. Despite their willies, each man gulped back the bile when they saw the contraction **ABOVE** the fires-a long wooden pike and a very thick spinning wheel.

Tor glanced uncertainly and apprehensively at his companions, and said with a forced brave chuckle, "Looks like the Knights were right after all."

Attila swore and spat on the foreign earth as he said harshly when the Inish easily lifted them up and tied them up over the fires, "Foul, beastly sons-of-whores! When I meet Mythras, he'll avenge me!"

But the Sons and Daughters of Britannia ignored him. In fact, their dancing and rhythmic chanting grew louder and more impassioned as time progressed.

Tor was ill with fear. His face was awfully flushed red and sweat literally poured off his face in a steady stream of cloudy water. His breathing became erratic as the _Inish's_ bodies danced, swayed, and jumped all around him. All he could see, besides the scorching red-hot-orange flames of the fire, was blue-black shadows teasing him from the dark corners of the cave they were trapped in.

He nearly gagged when blood flew from one of their blood drenched brown leathers and landed squarely in his mouth. The blood from the demon tasted like nothing he had ever tasted before. The normally metallic flavor he liked so much was tarnished by unknown elements that made his tongue sting and his mouth burn with a fire as hot as the one he was laid flat out over. The _Inish_ were yelling and flashing in and out of his vision.

He felt faint.

The fires were too hot and the adrenaline flashing through his veins was overpowering his system. He gasped in a vain attempt to breathe, and chocked as the fire's ash coated his mouth and made him wheeze and cough.

He knew, in the back of his mind, he shouldn't panic-it wasn't manly-it was weak and womanish, but he couldn't help it. When the knives started to fly by his head-that was it.

Tor knew no more.

Attila was very impressed despite the fact that he was scared beyond his wildest imagination.

He glared fiercely at Tor because the younger man was **ACTUALLY** weak enough to faint. _That is a woman's reaction to battle! Have the Bears truly fallen so far from grace? Ancestors save us…we have fail you!_

Divina knew what the older man was thinking because of the look on his face.

She snorted and said in a surprisingly conversational tone, "You know, my people are much like you, Sarmatians. Both of our cultures value women, both cultures were betrayed by Rome when we welcomed them to our shores, and both our cultures were enslaved by the Romans. Actually, the only difference between our two peoples is that my Sons and Daughters didn't give up. We fought and won our freedom after four hundred years of slavery. We fought and won our freedom while you let Rome destroy your people's greatness!"

Attila howled in denial. Artur sputtered in absolute shock and rage. **_This insolent woman had dared to insult them! This would not do at all!_**

As Artur, again, tried to jump to his feet, Divina continued on ignoring them,

"_In the times before time, there was a void._

_Nothing and everything existed together harmoniously. _

_Then from the darkness, a light appeared._

_It was named Tiamat. _

_She was given the title of the Dragon Goddess of Creation and Order. _

_For millennia she existed and protected the void-diligently. _

_As time grew the void changed and became a three layered world. _

_But she grew lonely. _

_Then, she was attacked. _

_His name was Apsu. _

_His title was the Dragon God of Destruction and Chaos. _

_For millennia more they fought. _

_But Tiamat was weakening. _

_In desperation, Tiamat lunged at Apsu and bit him on the underbelly near his manhood and from that bloodshed and seed, Tiamat bit herself and mixed their blood near her womanhood._

_The explosion caused by the joining of two different bloods was spectacular!"_

Divina took a deep breath as the _Inish_ started to cheer and yell for more of the story-Attila and Artur were horrified by the story,

"_From the explosion, _

_A tiny dragon, _

_Girl-child, was born, _

_And she was named Britannia."_

"_Within the three worlds,_

_Britannia had three different bodies. _

_The Divine-World, Spiritual-World, _

_She possessed the body of a beautiful blue-green, Silvery dragon with golden eyes. _

_In the Mortal-World, _

_Physical-World, _

_She possessed the body of our beloved home-land, Briton, _

_And in the third world, _

_The Demon-World, the Dark-World, _

_She possessed the body of the voided darkness."_

Divine glared ferociously at the three Sarmatians and said otherworldly, "Britannia is our home-lands body and her lakes and rivers, her blood. We are her children, and she is very angry that you are trying to destroy the heirs of her blood. You would do well to remember this, when you go to meet…ah…what was his name…oh yes…Mythras!"

Artur tried to roll away from the nearing _Inish_, but he couldn't. He yelled out in pain as they brought their dull-sided axes down upon his head.

Attila could only watch on his horror as his fellow Sarmatians, who were already burnt beyond any sunburn he had seen before, were dragged to a large silver platter and covered with vegetables. Then he, too, knew no more.

Divina, when she was sure that they were all unconscious, threw off her blond horse wig and commanded, "Arlec! Send word to Duke Merlin and the Lords! Phase one is complete and progressing to phase two!"

One of the _Inish_, a young man with raven black hair and deep brown eyes-similar to Marquise Lancelot's smiled, bowed, and rushed out of the cave.

Tristran, who was riding ahead of his fellow Knights and the Sarmatians, glanced up inquisitively as his hawk, Siolae, soared down to him and landed perfectly on his armored gauntlet.

His sister, Ilona, who was riding with him, glanced at him curiously as he pulled off a piece of parchment and swiftly and wordlessly read it. His normally straight lips quirked up very quickly, and then returned to their normal state.

He glanced up and said, "We must return to Arthur. I have news from home."

He saw her nod and quickly pulled her horse around.

Very quickly, it seemed, they reached the others. Tristran silently handed over the parchment, and waited patiently for Arthur and Lancelot, who was reading over Arthur's shoulder, to finish.

Tristran watched as his commanding officers smiled lightly and Arthur commanded, "Very well, let's get going then. I think we've wasted enough time."

Habren, who was near Lancelot, eyed her eldest brother weirdly as he chuckled at Arthur's words. In fact, she noticed with some alarm, **ALL** the Knights were laughing!

She glanced to her brother, Tarkan, her husband, Melean, and her admirer, Pappy, and saw that they too were just as mystified as she was. She glanced to Ilona in hopes of finding an answer. She was disappointed when she saw her fellow princess shaking her head negatively.

_What is going on here!_

Garen, Agravine, and Tanais, who were riding somewhat close to their tribal brothers, had to ask, "What is so funny!"

None of them were feeling particularly happy at the moment. In fact, all of the Sarmatians, themselves included, were dead tired and cantankerous. They couldn't understand why their fellow Sarmatian brothers were acting like they were to them. It wasn't their fault that Attila was a bastard, who wanted to hurt their children.

Garen, in particular, didn't want to harm one single hair on his cousin's children's heads. He had only met them for a few short minutes, but Briac, Aithne, Belaya, and Briana, had captured his heart, and he loved them like he loved his own children. He also was quite fond of Alma and Enys; they were, from what he saw, the perfect matches for Gawain and Galahad.

But the three Wolf Tribesmen were willing to give the Knights the benefit of the doubt-one more time.

Gawain looked at his cousin and the other two men from his childhood home and said lackadaisically, "Nothing, except when we arrive at the wall, I expect that you will all be very much surprised."

Agrimpasa kicked her older brother in the upper leg and demanded vehemently, "What's that supposed to mean, _brother?_"

Gawain glared maliciously at his younger sister and said venomously, "If you as so much as accidentally hurt me again, **sister**, I will personally remove your acidic tongue to save us all from your poisons. Do you understand me, child of Beucan and Malana?"

Agrimpasa felt all her blood drain from her face. In all her life, she had never been spoken to in such a manner. She was deathly afraid for her life now, and glanced optimistically in Lancelot's direction. _His charming, chivalrous soul couldn't possibly accept such a threat to any woman's person, let alone me!_

Lancelot saw her face and felt a twinge of penitence as he replied in an equally acidic tone, "Don't look at me, **Princess**. I won't save your hide from your brother's punishments. It **IS** his right as Prince, and since we are **NOT** married, nor do I intend to follow through with our **_"so-called"_** engagement, you are on you own."

Arthur eyed his friend in concern. It had been a long time, since he had met Emogen actually, since he had heard that tone come from his friend. He knew that this was bothering his First Knight a lot, but he hadn't realized it had advanced this much.

He cleared his throat to gain their attention, and said commandingly, "Double time! We'll reach the wall by mid-day meals."

When Divina and the others rode into the safety of the Wall, Aldus, Lancelot's second-n-command and commander of Hadrian's Wall, whom had received a letter from Duke Merlin about the arrival of Divina and the others with their newest prisoners, smiled in welcome and raised his hands in greeting.

Divina returned the gesture happily and said as her people roughly and uncaringly dropped the three prisoners to the murky ground, "They are all yours!"

Aldus smiled, waved for him men to carry the Sarmatians into the Roman styled prison, and said as he offered her his arm, "Will My Lady wish to see how our friends enjoy their imprisonment whilst we await the King and the Knights' arrival?"

As the men were dragged through the mud, Divina giggled in a completely female, flirtatious way, and said as she placed her arm through his, "Of course, My Lord, I'd be delighted too!"

Attila groaned and slowly opened his eyes as he felt the harsh, unforgiving, stone work under his face. Dazedly, he pushed himself up until he was sitting up tall and proud, and nearly wept with relief when he realized that he couldn't see any of the demons around him and that his hands and feet had been freed.

He spun around in shock when he heard a Roman accent from behind, "I hope you enjoy your new home, Barbarian. Because this'll be the only home you know of for a very long time."

Then he heard a **CLANG** as the solid iron bars slammed shut. All he could see, through his bleary eyes, for they were showing him things in triplicate, was the backend of a Roman's armor and the immortalized red cape.


	13. Chapter 13

_Sarmatian Language **Latin Language**_

This will jump from P.O.V. to P.O.V a lot so keep up!

Reunion 13

_Roman! How? What? I thought Briton was free of the bastards?_

Attila's well-muscled, if a bit older body, collapsed. His body, which had been strong and proud just moments ago, could no longer hold up his imposing strength as his eyesight darkened to black. He didn't fall unconscious, but as he tried to regain his feet, the wall in front of him swam up to meet him.

As his vision continued to swim before his eyes, he tried maladroitly to put out a hand to save himself from falling onto his knees once more, Tor and Artur jolted awake.

Tor was ecstatic! He was no longer the prisoner of those devil-worshippers, and his hands and feet were free. As his face grew into the shape of a hard-lined smile, he yelped and lightly slapped his hand on his cheek. When he pulled his hand back, he gasped softly-it was covered in lines of sticky, dried blood.

_Those devils! Those bastards! They burned me so badly that my skin broke open! _

Artur grumbled as he said harshly, "Tor, you are a weak-son-of-a-Wolf-btch! Shut your mouth! I've a bad enough headache without your yelps of cheer."

Tor glared at his second-n-command and said in an equally callously tone, "You had better stop all your mutinous thoughts and words, Artur, or you'll find yourself on the wrong side of my sword when we get back home."

Artur snorted and said spitefully, "You don't have the skill to defeat me, **BOY**, and you don't have the gall to kill a woman let alone a worthy, **more superior**, male opponent."

The two men glared at one another and growled warningly at one another as they hastily jumped to their feet and circled one another-each ready for a bloody fight.

As he pulled himself into a defensive position, Tor couldn't believe what was happening to him. Just weeks ago, he had been traveling to Briton to find his long lost brother, Bors, and now here he was-locked away in some sort of prison. _I should just gut Artur here and now. But, Attila might retaliate since he and Artur are allies…this is all Bors' fault! If he had returned when his term of service was complete none of this would have happened!_

Tor conveniently forgot one simple thing-**_if Bors had died while in the service of Rome, he'd still be in the same position as he was now_**-the only difference would be that Bors would be dead and not alive.

He was never so glad as to be a stubborn-no nonsense man, who never thought wrong about anything.

Artur grounded his teeth together, spun around slightly, and roared as he, unknowingly stomped his foot like a child would when denied his favorite toy or food, "Attila! Where are we?"

Attila groaned, placed a hand on his temple, and said in a weak, sickly, voice even as he thought _we have truly sunk and dishonored our ancestors! If this is how we react, like **CHILDREN**, our people are justly doomed_, "In a Roman prison."

"**WHAT?**" roared the two younger men of the Bear Tribe as they sprung away from one another and stared at the older man in horror, rage, and maddening confusion.

_What are we doing in a Roman prison! Rome left Briton to the Saxons! How could they regain control so fast? And how is it that my **DEAREST** brother is a person of power and wealth if Rome **DID** regain its power?_

_This is not good! How'd we end up here? I thought those, devil **Inish,** would eat us for sure! If they were to eat us, why are we here?_ Artur was confused. He didn't like feeling confused-unfortunately that was the one emotion he was coming to tolerate because he'd go insane otherwise because of the situation he reluctantly found himself in.

Attila, from his place leaning up against the moldy, marble, stone walls, sneered at them. If they felt **anything **like he did, they were doing a much better job of hiding it than he was. Even as Tor's face bled with the fire-burn, the two men lunged at the iron bars and started to heave with all their might-in an attempt to find their freedom.

Tor and Artur banged their hands and bodies against the bars. They shouted as loudly as they could each yelling and cursing in their native tongue and in any Latin and or Briton they had picked up.

_"FREE US YOU ROMAN SWINE!"_(Tor)

_"YOU HAVE NO AUTHORITY TO HOLD US! WE ARE **NOT** YOUR SLAVES!"_(Artur)

**_"EOGTISTIC BASTARDS!_** **_ALL OF YOU!"_**(Tor)

**_"WHEN I GET OUT OF HERE, YOU'LL ALL WISH YOU WERE DEAD!"_**(Artur)

They didn't know how long they had been yelling and screaming, but Attila finally got the strength to stand up and shouted above them both, **"SHUT UP, BOTH OF YOU!"**

As the two younger Bear Tribal men spun around to start an argument with Attila, a roman accented, male voice cut in smoothly with a degrading drawl, "Yes, do. You are fowling up the air with your very breath, barbarians."

The three Sarmatians spun around and all three felt their glares return with a heated vengeance. There, right in front of them, were five Romans dressed in pure Roman regalia.

The man in the center was the most elaborately dressed so almost immediately Attila, Artur, and Tor knew that he was the leader of the five men. Plus, upon his left shoulder was a symbol that chased away any doubts on just **WHO** he was-Primus Pilus, the Senior Centurion, the career officer who was the advisor to the Legate.

His feet were well protected by brown leather, knee-length boots that had golden accessories on the top on them, just above his knees, and the boots had three golden clasps to keep his boots securely around his feet. Covering his average body, was a red, long reaching tunic top that had silver metal weavings all along the cuffs. The ends reached just above his knees and were tied around his back for extra support. Over his immortal red symbol of power, was a thick, brown leather vest and kilt. Decorating the leather vest were six, male-fist sized, golden plates that depicted scenes of Jesu's crucification. Those same six golden plates formed the holy symbol of Rome-the Christian cross.

His kilt was freely pleated and there was a brown leather strap that wound around his back and threw his buttock crack to protect his manhood from dishonorable conduct in an honorable fight.

On his right hip, were two short swords sheathed in red leather with golden accented protectors. The man's head gear was not on his head protecting it, no, his helmet was under one of his arms and its infamous red plumage was starting to look a bit frayed at the ends.

Attila frown, _this is starting to feel wrong somehow…I just don't know **HOW….**_

The man just to the right of the center man was dressed just as bountifully as the Primus Pilus, but this man's clothes were a little less dignified. He wore brown leather, knee length boots that had no decoration adorning them, a simple red long tunic top with a brown leather vest coving it for light weight protection, and two short swords were sheathed at his hip. He held his right hand over the two hilts clearly showing just how ready he was should they try and attempt any escapes from the stronghold.

Aldus, Lancelot's second-n-command and commander of Hadrian's Wall, was very uncomfortable dressed in King Arthur's old Roman regalia, but he made sure that his face was blank as he said ignoring the two Sarmatian's words, "You are here to await your punishment. You should be glad that we saved you from those demons. In payment, after your punishment, you will serve Rome; serve **ME**, for the next five years."

Aldus waved to his own second-n-command, Cael, and said, "Bring them to **the court**."

Cael nodded and said as three men dressed in common Roman soldier armor moved to open the iron bars, "Soldier Uriens, Soldier Angus, and Soldier Flynn, take them, but first bind their hands in irons."

Uriens smiled sadistically and said, "With pleasure my lords."

Attila tried to resist, but he was still too dazed to do no more than weakly hold out his hands in a feeble attempt to withhold Uriens from him. Within seconds he felt the familiar weight of iron chains, and he was dragged unceremoniously out of the door.

At the same time, as Uriens detained Attila, Argus and Flynn chained and knocked out Tor and Artur.

Aldus looked over at Flynn and asked as the man rubbed his jaw and groaned lowly, "All right, Flynn?"

Flynn, a red hared, blue eyed, tall, strapping young man of twenty, grinned humorlessly and said as he pulled his hand away and heaved Artur, his attacker, over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, "Well, I'll have a bruise for a while, but I'll live."

Aldus chuckled lightly and said as he listlessly tossed the helmet, that he still carried under his arm, into a dark corner of the jail cell, "Well, now that, that is done, all that there is left to do is tie them up and await the arrival of the Lords of Briton."

Aldus laughed outright as the skies above them opened up and let loose with the torrent of rain it had been threatening to drop on top of them for the past three days and said with a wave in the air's direction, "Well, if that's not divine retribution on Britannia's might, I don't know what is."

The other four laughed as well as they shrugged at one another and quickly tied the three Sarmatians up to four long, thick wooden poles right smack in the middle of the Wall's courtyard-the once training facility of the Sarmatian Knights conscripted to Rome.

Meanwhile, as the Knights lead their Sarmatian blood-kin to the Wall for the sending off of the fallen Knights of their generation, the Ladies of Camelot were having problems of their own.

Marquess Emogen Serenity Just-Lyon, Lady of Peace and the Queen's Councilor, of Badbury Providence, was aimlessly wandering through the castle's many passages. In her arms was her and Lancelot's firstborn son, Cadman Lyon. She wished he would fall asleep, but he was teething once again and he wouldn't go to sleep. So, she was out wandering the palace as her twin daughters slept on unhindered by their brother's painful howls.

Emogen winced, once again, as her son squirmed in her arms and screamed in her ears. The echoes of the scream bounced all around her making her already excruciating headache grow exponentially.

She sighed and pleaded warily as she leaned against one of the many storage rooms in the hallway, "Please, quite my son. You must sleep. If you do, the pain will vanish, I promise you."

As Cadman's tears grew louder, a strange, scarily, familiar scent wafted up from behind her. With a sigh, she thought _great; one of the cleaners forgot to clean the inside._

With a tired push, she pulled herself back onto her feet and shifted Cadman to one arm and settled him on her hip. She reached for the ring-like handle, and froze.

That scent-it was dangerous.

She knew it.

She just couldn't remember where she had smelt it before.

She bit her lip and released the door handle. She took a step back and eyes the door warily like it was Cerdic, the Saxon King, back from the dead, who was explaining to her that he wasn't **invading** Briton; he was **clearing out** the evils of the country-Britons and Romans.

She cocked her head to the side as her brain tried to place the awfully familiar scent.

The scent was metallic and dark, _if that is a word meant to describe scent._ She thought with a roll of her emerald green eyes and a small snort.

She gasped as her vision seemed to fuzz out and she suddenly found herself in the one place she hoped to never remember again-**_The Battle of Badon Hill_**.

She knew, intellectually, that she was still with Cadman in Camelot, but couldn't help but shiver in fear, rage, and bloodlust. That's when the scents from Badon hit her and hit her hard. She remembered with a sudden clarity how Arthur and their people had set the entire battle field on fire, and how the men and women she killed smelt as their blood flooded the earth and their metallic scents masked the wondrous scents of Briton.

With a jerk and a sharp kick from her son, she blinked away the memory and stared at the door in repulsion-death had come to Camelot, the first unnatural death since Arthur became King five years ago.

She took a deep breath and coughed. The scent, now that she knew what to "look-for", as it were, was strong to her and she held her son closer. As she placed a hand on his back, she gripped the blanket that she had wrapped Cadman in before leaving their chambers, and pulled it sharply, yet caringly, over his curly back crown.

When she was sure that her youngest child wouldn't see and hopefully, **SMELL** what she **HOPED** she wouldn't see, Emogen quickly pulled the door open and stepped in to see what was hidden within.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the storage closet, she gasped and closed her eyes slowly in pain. She bit her lip and said softly in pain and sorrow, "Oh Katheryne…"

There laying flat on her back, was Tristran's favorite Apple-Girl, Katheryne. Her arms and legs were spread as far out from possible from her body and her neck was slit from ear to ear. Emogen bit her lip and hastily backed out of the storage room.

She hugged Cadman close, suddenly wishing with all her worth, to the Goddess, that Lancelot was there to protect her and their children. She may have a warrior's skill when it's needed, but she hadn't seriously taken up a sword since she was pregnant with the twins.

She took another deep breath and shouted, "**GUARDS!**"

Within minutes, a dozen guards and the Ladies of Camelot had arrived.

Cordelia rushed to her side and demanded as she placed a hand on her upper arm, close to her shoulder, "Why did you sound the alarm?"

Emogen gulped deeply and said as she pointed into the closet, "In there, its Katheryne, she's dead."

Cordelia, with wide, disbelieving eyes, lunged into the small room, and immediately pulled back with her hands covering her nose and mouth. She looked a bit green, so Enys pulled her farther away from storage chamber and said, "Sir Morton, go inside and see if there is anything in there that will give us any clue as to **WHO** did this to her."

Sir Morton, one of Tristran's men, silently entered the chambers, and almost immediately walked back out. Only in his hand was something that made the Ladies of Camelot pale….

A bloody dagger with a golden pommel carved into the shape of a horse with the Sarmatian letters A.dHuk or…

**Attila duHuk.**


	14. Chapter 14

Reunion 14

This chapter will focus on the Knights more than anything else and their struggles to find a consensus with their present families, their emotions, their duties-past and present-, and their relationships with their old families.

This does have a small part that may seem like **INCEST**, but it **IS NOT!** Habren's just admiring how handsome her brother has grown.

**I repeat: NOT INCEST!**

Unknown to the Ladies of Camelot, as they began the heartbreaking responsibility of preparing a funeral pier for the orphaned girl-woman, Katheryne, the Knights of the Round Table, themselves, were starting to feel the pangs of suppressed obligations and family bonds.

Each man knew that they had promised their families to return, and in Gawain's case, he had made the extra promise to his mother to make sure that his younger brother, Galahad, remained alive and lived to see the greens of the Steppes once more.

_Dmn it! Why'd they have to come! Why couldn't they just let us go? It's not like Knights ever came home in the past. Some did and some didn't. What made us **SO** important for them to travel so far to find us? _

_But…they did think we had been kept here by Arthur against our will…**AND** we **ARE** the princes of the eleven tribes…but it's not like the bloodline was in any danger of dying out! I mean, there is Tarkan, Habren, ah…I think his name is Zimkar, and then Hera of the Lion Tribe. Then there is Agrimpasa, Athena, Areia, Rugon, Rabadron, Reekon, and Gowan…if they still live?_

He blinked at that. It had been a **VERY** long time since he had thought about any of his older half-brothers.

He glanced at his younger sister, the twin of his very well-loved, baby brother, Galahad and asked in a voice he hoped didn't reveal just how scared he truly was about the answer nor how disjointed he felt from his Sarmatian family, "So, how are Rugon, Rabadron, Reekon, and Gowan?"

Agrimpasa twirled to him quickly and snorted as she said off-handedly, "Not that you **TRULLY** care-right?"

At his grimace, she laughed lightly and said humorlessly, "Rugon is alive and married to Agrippia and has two children-two boys named Gawain and Galahad in honor of his **FALLEN** baby brothers."

He grimaced again and thought of his blond hared, brown eyed brother as she continued, "Rabadron and Reekon are dead, but both were married to Satina and Calipia. They left them pregnant when the Huns attacked. Both had girls named Rabada and Reeia in honor of their brave fathers who fell during the raid."

Galahad, who had joined his siblings winced and sent a silent prayer up to the heavens _I know I claimed myself no longer Sarmatian when I became Galahad Weaponsguild Wolfe but…they are my brothers so…Mythras protect them and may they run freely across the Steppes._

Agrimpasa continued on not even bothering to hide the contempt she felt for her **DEAREST** older brothers, "And Gowan, he recently married Missinia and is expecting his first child. I expect that when we return home, the baby will be born and we'll have a new baby niece or nephew."

Galahad's shoulders sunk as he heard the news of his older half-brothers. He had to admit, he hadn't thought about them in a very long time. Even before he had married Enys and became a Lord of Briton, when he was still under Rome's thumb, he hadn't thought of them. He just didn't see the reason to moan and groan for men who were thousands of miles away and scattered all over the Empire. If they lived, he'd see them again in his life. If not, well there were always the divine Steppes.

The two brothers of House Wolfe shared a glance. The women their brothers married were in fact their cousins-fourth or fifth true-but they were cousin nonetheless. If the Sarmatian people didn't learn to tolerate those not of pure blood, their once proud countrymen would quickly die out.

Galahad sighed as he finished his thought _and that's Habren's whole point for this visit-isn't it!_

Even Arthur was starting to feel horrible about how they had been treating the families of his beloved Knights.

_It's not like they didn't deserve it!_

He thought with vicious pride. The Sarmatians had been the ones who had threatened and mocked their children-in their faces even! He hadn't forgotten nor forgiven how Tor made a wholly artificial _'heart-felt'_ apology to his own nieces!

But, even he had to admit, that not all the Sarmatians were evil or bad. And, if he was honest with himself, not all of them deserved his and his Knights treatment of them.

Also, if he wanted to be **REALLY** honest with himself, he'd acknowledge one of his deepest fears come to life with the arrival of the Sarmatians.

_I don't want them to take my dearly loved Knights away from me!_ He thought selfishly.

Plus, the true evil ones, Attila, Tor, and Artur, had been taken care of.

He smirked as he thought _and right now they are probably sitting in the rain as we ride through it right now! And_ he added as his smirk grew _the best part is, the Sarmatians think they are dead!_

Lancelot was attempting to **NOT** look at his little sister's vast, watery, bruised, brown eyes. He didn't want to feel as though he had failed her somehow. He knew that she blamed him for her current situation, being married-**reluctantly**-to Melean.

_But! It's not like she couldn't have spoken up on her own behalf! I didn't have to be **THE ONE** person to save her from an unhappy marriage! She's been trained to handle the political world with Tarkan!_

He sighed.

He had promised though.

And he **NEVER** broke a promise-**NEVER!**

_Perhaps I should have gone home-for a short time. It's not like Emmy didn't have enough support for her while the twins were being born. I could have gone back to Sarmatia, handled Habren's situation, let Pappy marry her, and returned home. **GOD!** What am I to do! I feel horrible for breaking my promise to her! But, I love Emmy…_

_She needed me more than they did._

_Promises left unfilled!_

_Come on Lancelot, why don't you be honest with yourself…you didn't want to go back home because you had, had it up to your ears with politics…**ROMAN** politics and you knew that if you went home, you'd have to become the next King and handle discussions with all the Romans in the area…as tradition dictates…_

_But…she's still my baby…little sister!_

His eyes hardened in his weakening attempt to distance himself from his own flesh and blood siblings_ But…oh who am I trying to fool! I didn't return because I didn't want too! I didn't want to leave one kind of enforced slavery just to return to another, differently shaped, slavery! _

_But I made a promise!_

_If I had returned to Sarmatia, mother would have taken one look at me, nodded, most likely she would have whacked me on the back of the head too…and shoved me into wedding robes and married my off to Agrimpasa before I knew what had happened!_

He gazed at Galahad's well-endowed fraternal twin sister and ended with a shake of revulsion _and I would have ended up with **THAT** as my wife…a slut who only wants more power…I would have ended up with a certifiable she-Roman digging for gold!_

As he sent his gaze to his sister, who was on his right flank, he cast her a-side-long glance, while not turning his head, Habren said, "Is it always this…eh…wet?"

Lancelot snorted at her opening statement, and said wryly as he thought back to a time, only five to six years ago, when he too thought as she did-she despised the wet, muddy, misty, and dreary weather, "Most of the time it seems like it, yes, but the weather has actually been pretty nice. This is the first time in nearly a month that we have had a nice, slow, wet rainfall. The last time in rained, it poured so much and for so long, I thought we'd end up killing all the children because they were **NOT** handling the enforced inside restrictions."

At her confused look, he added helpfully as Arthur joined him on his left flank, "They did **NOT** like staying inside for a full month."

Habren snorted at that. She could understand the children's feelings perfectly. She and the other _Children of Sarmatia_ are born wild and free like the horses they were so well known for. To be cooped up inside four castle stonewalls, for an entire month, was the very things of her nightmares.

She glanced at him and couldn't help be feel a jolt of desire rush through her. Her eldest brother was very handsome. In fact, he was the most handsome man she had ever seen. She bit her lip and chastised herself harshly for it.

She tried to rationalize it away by thinking to herself _I haven't seen him since I was five-years-old-he thirteen! It's not like I grew up with him and the moral family bonds of brothers and sisters! My body is just reminding me that I have a very handsome man close by and that I haven't been to my marriage bed once in my entire wedded life! I'm twenty years old! I should have two children by now!_

Tarkan bit his lip as he watched his eldest brother and eldest, younger sister ride side-by-side. He wanted to hate Lancelot for not coming home like he had promised so long ago, but he found himself unable too. When he thought of Lancelot, his thoughts immediately went to his brother's beautiful Briton wife and his three adorable children.

He knew almost immediately that he could not harm his brother's family in the way he had planned to. He could not ruin his own brother's happiness for his own sake.

He knew this to be true, because he knew that Lancelot, despite the fact that they had not seen each other in twenty years, would never harm him in anyway-seriously.

He also knew, that if, **IF** by any chance they were able to bring Lancelot back to Sarmatia, his brother would **NEVER** try to flirt and steal the mother of his unborn child.

_So, why am I planning to do this? Am I **THAT** deplorable? Am I **THAT** desperate? **NO! I'm NOT!** If Lancelot does not return, and mother tries to force me to marry Agrimpasa, I'll…I'll…I'm not completely sure what I'd do, but I know for certain that I will move away from the tribe..._

As he stared out at the hazy landscape and futilely at his brother and the other Knights, who looked completely at home in the rain-but more importantly-they looked **AT PEACE**, he ended thoughtfully _perhaps, I'll move here. Perhaps, I, too, can find my peace…_

He smirked vindictively and added crossly to himself _wouldn't mother just throw a fit if I left the tribe? Then she will have lost two sons to Briton and neither of them will be lost to her because of death, but by choice-a worse heartbreak._

He glanced at his sister and felt an incredible urge, to confess his old plans. Since he knew she'd keep his secret, he knew he could tell her. He trotted up to her and raised an eyebrow.

She hadn't notice him approach.

He cleared his throat and waited.

Nothing.

He frowned and gently shook her by her shoulder.

Habren's thoughts were torn from her when she felt a hand on her upper shoulders.

She turned and saw her brother, Tarkan, eyeing her weirdly. She raised and eyebrow and he shrugged.

She pursed her lips and waited.

Tarkan sighed and said softly so that only the two of them could hear, "Habren, I don't think they will come home. We **MUST** find a way to get them to let us stay. I don't know about you, but I am **NOT** marrying Agrimpasa! If I have to, I'm dragging Lancelot back home with Emogen and his children trailing behind."

Her glare sharpened as he shrugged and said carelessly, "At least I am not going to try and break up his marriage as my first plan needed."

Before Habren could scold him for his plan of betrayal, Tristran, who had been sent on ahead by Arthur earlier, trotted back to them and said, "The Wall is just over the next hill. Aldus is expecting us."

He turned towards the Sarmatians and ended in a smirk, "All the royal banners are out and flying in the winds."

Lancelot and Arthur groaned and Lancelot said scratching, "I'm going to **KILL** Aldus if he's attempting what I think he is."

Before Habren could ask him what he meant, she and the others got their first glimpse of the famous wall their forefathers, brothers, uncles, and brothers gave their lives for.

The banners Tristran had spoken of where flying proudly in the Briton skyline, and Habren couldn't help but feel a sense of pride for her brother and his friends. The bold dark navy blue and gold of the Pendragon and the sharp emerald and silver of the Lion were the very first standards that caught her eye, and she was spell bound. That more than anything proved to her just how far reaching Arthur's arm crossed Briton. If they didn't do as the King said, they could be easily propelled off the island with very little trouble.

As they all dismounted, Lancelot said sarcastically with a smile to his second-n-command, "Home Sweet Home."

Aldus chuckled and said with a warm smile as a young lady hugged his right arm, "This way My Lords!"

Pappy demanded with a superior air, "And just **WHERE** are we going?"

He ignored the grating looks from the Knights as the woman stood tall and said just as superiorly, "It's a surprise!"

With large grins to match their growing egos, the Knights followed Lancelot's second-n-command. The Knights eyed their past countrymen evilly, so the Sarmatians sighed and grudgingly followed their unwelcoming hosts.

Tarkan growled and asked as they stepped into the courtyard, "What is all this…"

Melean gasped out with wide eyes as he stared at the drenched, wrinkling, lousy-looking men, **_"You're ALIVE!"_**


	15. Chapter 15

Hey! This chapter focuses more on the Ladies of Camelot and Alec. The next chapter will have more of Alec too!

Reunion 15

As their husbands had a joyful experience at the Sarmatians' expense, Emogen and the other, Ladies of Camelot and Briton found themselves locked up in their common room holding their babies close. The very fact that Attila had been able to leave the chamber Lancelot had placed him and the other Sarmatians in scared them. It made them all panic to come to the realization that he had been able to hide a weapon and murder one of their staff. More importantly, Katheryne, who had a key to enter their chambers-he, could have had access to their children's chambers if he had but looked through her pockets!

The guards of Camelot locked them up in their circular room because Katheryne was found murdered within the halls of equality and justice-the very core, the heart, of Camelot. When Sir Morton had pulled out the dagger initialized with Attila's name, he and Tristran's second in command, Lady Cerridwen-the woman who had showed them the spot for building Camelot-the two of them had overridden both Cordelia and Emogen's command in order to keep the noble families of Briton safe from harm.

Alec, son of Dagonet and Fulucina, who armed himself in a battle ready form, had placed himself at the entrance of the Circle of Wings in order to protect them from anyone dangerous; if they were still lurking within the bowels of the castle's many hallways.

The women were alarmed when all this occurred because all of them, with the exception of Vanora and Fulucina, had been warriors as well as healers for most of their lives. They were not pleased to find themselves pushed aside like wallflower, daisy-like dainty woman. Even Vanora and Fulucina's ire had raised a few notches when Morton and Alec locked their heavy chamber doors with the emergency bolts and told them to stay here.

_This is horrible! How could this have happened! The chamber in which Lancelot took them too has guards at every intersection and moonlight and sunlight can enter through the large windows to illuminate it well enough to see clearly. _

Cordelia sighed, held Mordwen and Morgana close, and said with a soft, disbelieving voice, "I can't believe this. Why would Attila do such a thing?"

_Lance, why did you leave? Our children are in danger and I am not sure I can protect them from this! How did Attila murder Katheryne? She was only twelve paces from the a guard, so how did he do this so quietly? He came so close to hurting my babies…all he had to do was reach into Katheryne's apron pocket and remove the silver key within…Lancelot, come home! _

Emogen held Cadman close to her breast as her twins' buried their heads in her lap and said softly so she would not awaken the babies, whom had finally fallen asleep, "He has made his intentions towards our children very clear. He hates them and wants them all dead, so he can take the men back to Sarmatia without any problems. I just never thought that he'd resort to killing an innocent servant girl...poor Katheryne."

_Galahad, I hope you and the others are well, especially with Attila with you…be safe!_

As Enys opened her mouth to comment, the chambers doors gave a resounding gone and Morton's voice was heard in Gaelic (Pict), **_"The circle is complete."_**

Alec smiled slightly and replied just a softly in Gaelic as if he were afraid that Attila himself would hear the password and appear magically within their chambers with a sword ready to slaughter all that he loved, **_"Now Briton is free."_**

As the doors swung open, Cordelia and the other Ladies of Briton stood up and asked together, "Were any others found?"

As three people, two men and one woman, entered the royal chambers of the Knights of the Round Table, Lady Knight Cerdiwen said confidently as she handed Queen Cordelia a piece of parchment, "We have checked every room in the castle right down to the last storage chamber and the last prison cell. We have found no others dead."

Cordelia and the others sighed in relief and Alec finally relaxed for the first time in three days. He rolled his tense shoulders and groaned. They had grown hard and painful during the past three days of frightened waiting. With a wistful longing look out the chamber doors, he thought _I wish Dainera were here to help me relax._ Then he blushed as he envisioned the beautiful woman he hoped to marry once his position within the Round Table was official. She had luscious golden blond hair that looked like pure sunshine gold and glimmered when the sunlight hit it. Her lips were plump and red-perfect for kissing and her forest green eyes were reminiscent of Emogen's, but they were more pure, more innocent, which was understandable since Emogen had seen and done things that Dainera, thankfully-did not have to experience since Arthur took Kingship and made the country peaceful.

_Tristran, what a time for you to take Siolae with you…what I would not do for her right now! I do not feel safe in my own home…I need you!_

Ula took a deep breath and said unnecessarily, "We need to inform the men."

Gawain's wife, Alma, asked as she cuddled her baby daughter, Belayla, her beautiful white lily, and kissed her eldest daughter, Briana, her noble child, tenderly on the forehead, "How? Siolae is with Tristran."

Emogen took a deep breath and bit her lip. There is one among them, Lancelot's squire, who could accomplish the task before them, but she was sure that his mother would not allow it. But, he was the only one, other than Morton and Cerdiwen who had any training in silent traveling, and Morton would never leave them, the Ladies, without protection and Cerdiwen was fulfilling

Tristran's job whilst he was away-he was their only choice.

She breathed out and answered simply as she leveled a reassuring, confident glance at Fulucina, "Alec will go with the news."

Fulucina protested sharply, "No! He's not yet a Knight!"

Emmy continued unhindered though, "True, but Lance is sure that he is ready to take his Trial. This could be his final test of skill. The journey will no doubt test him in his endurance, stamina, skill with a horse, critical thinking and processing time, and his ability to capture his own food and provide for himself out in the wilds-alone."

Alec went to his mother's side, knelt in front of her, and pleaded honorably with encouragement in his voice to let him go, "Master Lancelot would not say I was ready if I truly were not. They need to know, mum."

_Oh Dagonet, if you could see our son now. He would make you so proud with his courage and honorable spirit. _Fulucina sighed and as she held her three-month-old baby daughter, Imogene, she reluctantly agreed, "Very well…just be careful my son."

Alec smiled sweetly at his mother and younger siblings and rushed down the corridor that held emblazoned with the emblems of a horse.

As he was packing, Sir Morton quickly reassured his mother, in a typical Tristran-like way, "He won't be alone Lady Hors; you have my word that one of the Knights will follow him as is procedure during these tests."

Fulucina started to breathe a bit easier as Alec appeared minutes later. He quickly kissed his mother and baby sister, patted Lucus on the back and rushed out.

When he reached the stables, he found his brown-hared horse, Constance, already tacked up for him and Jols, a Knight of the Round Table since the Battle of Badon Hill, holding the reigns with a smile.

Alec grinned and said, as he mounted the horse his master, Lord Lancelot, had bought for him three years ago, "Thank you Jols! You have saved me a lot of time!"

Arthur and the Knights' old squire returned to grin and said with a wink, "You have someone who wishes to speak to you, young Knight."

Alec raised an eyebrow, but his confused face transformed into a bright smile, as his love and soon-to-be fiancée and wife appeared with a pack bursting with dry food and water skins, "Dainera! What are you doing here?"

His future wife, Dainera, Jols' niece, smiled sweetly, handed him the pack, and said with a playful frown, "You didn't think I would let you leave without saying goodbye, did you?"

He chuckled and said as he placed a sweet kiss on her lips and said soothingly, "No, I did not. If Master Lancelot cannot leave the castle without saying goodbye to Lady Emogen, I did not have a chance, eh?"

Dainera giggled and said with a serious kindness, "Come back safe, Alec."

He nodded and with a clip of his reigns, he was gone.

Unknowingly to him, three and a half hours after he had left, Sir Alymere tacked up and followed him-to grade him and make sure he was safe, of course!

As Lancelot and Arthur eyed one another from their places off to the side of the shell-shocked Sarmatians, they cracked up laughing with Habren's exclamation with wide eyes and an open jaw, **"HOW!"**

Attila, Tor, and Artur, still groggy and exhausted from their ordeal, slowly but surely traveled from the world of unconsciousness to the conscious world. They each winced as freezing cold rain fell upon their open burn wounds, but at the same time felt a sense of healing as the cold water neutralized the burning fevers that the fires left behind.

When Habren's voice echoed through their aching heads, all three raised their distorted faces, and Attila demanded hoarsely and rudely, "Get us out of this!"

Tor, who was silently staring up at his older brother, felt a heart wrenching pain in his heart and gut as he finally realized that his **TRUE** older brother was dead. The man before him that carried the likeness of his brother was **NOT** of his father's loins. The man before him, who carried the name Bors, was **NOT** his favored brother. If this had been his brother, Bors would not have mongrel children, would not like peace but love bloodshed and destruction, and would have done everything in the world to return tot heir beloved homeland-he was a stranger

Therefore, with a heaviness wrought on by the heart-wrenching epiphany, Tor stared morosely up at Bors and said in a drunken-like tone, "You win, you win... After the funeral rites I'll leave...quietly."

As he stood-up, thankful that Tanais had rushed to his side to help unbind him, and rubbed his bloody-raw wrists, Artur snorted and exclaimed in disgust, completely disregarding the fact of who had helped him "You Wolf-son-of-a-bitch! You have brought dishonor upon our tribe by this boy-fool-heartedness! You deserve death for bringing such dishonor upon us all! By the Gods, you are nothing but a weak, wolf-baby boy-man!"

Not even a split second after those horrible words left his mouth, Garen, Galahad and Gawain's cousin, and Tanais, Galahad's brown-hared, brown-eyed childhood friend had their swords at Artur's neck.

Garen growled out as a thin line of red blood started to pool under the black hared man's, Artur's, Adam's apple, "Son-of-a-Whore! How **DARE** you insult the Wolf Tribe!"

Gawain, who had been laughing uproariously since the beginning, along with the other Knights of the Round Table, sobered instantly and lunged between the two in hopes of preventing a miniature war.

As he pushed them harshly apart, he answered Habren's question easily, "We aren't barbaric killers, Lady Habren. You are of our blood. What those three went through was a warning-a serious prank-to let you know that we are serious about protecting our children. If you do **ANYTHING** to hurt them..."

Lancelot placed a hand on his lion-like friend's large shoulders and ended as Arthur started to arrange rooms for them all, "You'll find a life of being imprisoned and a few hours of sitting in the rain to be easy compared to what we shall do to you if you hurt our children."

As she stared into her eldest brother's orbs of deadly black fire, Habren knew-they would let their former family stay-if only for a short time. However, woe is being to the one who made the Knights of the Round Table's family feel threatened...

She shivered just thinking about what kinds of torture her brother and his fellow Knights could think up.

After all, fifteen years of war was an excellent instructor in the black arts (death, pain, and torture).


	16. Chapter 16

Focuses on Alec's travels mostly towards to the Wall!

Reunion 16

Alec smiled as he and his horse, one of his best friends-Constance, trotted lightly through the trail his Master, father, and uncles traversed days before. The day was pleasantly warm and the birds were chirping cheerfully as he passed by under them.

He was very excited and felt like he was truly a man now, or as close as he could get whilst still under the commands of Marquis Lancelot Shieldguard Lyon of the House of Lyon, Lord of Badbury Shire County, First Knight of the Round Table, Knight Commander, and King's Protectorate. _If I complete this mission, from what Aunt Emogen said, Master Lancelot will petition to King Arthur for permission to join the Order of the Dragon, the Knights of Briton…I could become a Knight!_ This was what he had wanted ever since he met the Knights and Arthur all those years ago.

Now, here he was on his first mission, which would make or break him in his pursuit to become a Knight of the Round Table. He smiled and thought about all the training Lancelot had put him through in the last three months. Under Lancelot's control, Alec had been awakened an hour and a half before dawn everyday, except Sunday for religious purposes, and he was ordered to sprint from his rooms to the training yard within five minutes or he had to do one hundred and fifty push ups for every minute he was late. Once there in the training yard, Lancelot would put him through the paces with his Twin Demon blades.

He was proud of himself through. Lancelot's Twin Demons were nearly impossible to beat unless you wielded Excalibur, which he did not, and he was able to hold himself accordingly against his Master for many hours. Then Lancelot would push him even more with horseback training. He would pace Constance through twists and turns and even put his beloved horse through mock battle scenarios in which the other Knights or trainees would shoot arrows at him or near him and he'd have to ride her through all of that.

When horse training was finished, his diamond hard master, who would not allow him to rest, would then put him through another sprinting obstacle course in which he'd have to run through the a pathway with swinging swords, flying arrows, swim through murky waters, and then ride on horseback while fighting a horde of Knights.

His day ended with Lancelot giving him a rundown off all of his mistakes, if any inaccuracies had occurred, and he would be sent to the bathes. Then the rest of the night belonged to him.

Every once in a while, he could swear by God, himself, that his Master would occasionally smile at him with pride-a pride he once wished from his biological father, Marius. Not that he did not love or want approval from his father, Dagonet, but Dagonet had his own Page to be proud of, and Lancelot's pride and belief in him was what truly made his heart blaze with the desire to join his Master and Father at the Round Table.

As he passed through the forest, he remembered the Knights plan to make the Sarmatians travel through Sherwood Forest in a circular pattern. The Knights and the Sarmatians would have traveled through the forest for most of the day, whilst he passed through it relatively quickly-within three hours.

Once he was back on the road, he spied in the distance, a large Roman styled villa that reminded him, uncomfortably, of his old life when he was Alecto. He frowned. _That house wasn't there when Rome ruled Briton six years ago, was it?_

With a shrug, he jiggled his reigns and started cantering down the road. After a few minutes, he came upon a scene that made his blood boil.

Right along side the road, was a pretty, young woman with dark brown honey toned hair and snapping brown eyes. Four, big and burly Romans in armor and a wealthy looking young man in a perfect white toga surrounded her on all four sides. Each man was wearing an awful leer that made him, a man, feel dirty and disgusted by his own gender. He had thought that all the remaining Romans that were still living in Briton were those who had taken up Arthur's mantel.

His frown deepened when he saw the wealthy man roughly grab a hold of the woman's upper arm and throw her to the ground. She cried out and curled into herself and her slightly plump middle. Alec felt a deep hatred well up in him. That was the same position his mother had taken when she had tried to protect his unborn, now dead, sibling eight years ago.

He reared Constance and shouted our in a blazing hot tone, "**HALT!!!** What do you think you are doing?!"

All six looked up at him-only the woman looked relieved.

The men, unfortunately, ignored him. Alec frowned. He was not used to be ignored. The wealthy man was laughing dangerously and swinging a bone hilted dagger near the face of the downed woman. Moreover, his leery looks were sending skitters up and down his spine.

He trotted up as close to the men as he dared and said again, "Release her!"

The wealthy looking Roman pushed himself in front of the group, still gripping the woman by her dress though, and said in a seemingly tall voice full of power and control, but really only made him look like a fool, "I am Remus Romulus, son of the Great Roman Lord, Vicerius Romulus! Who are you?"

Alec sat up straighter and said strongly as he gripped his sword, which had been gifted to him by Lancelot and Dagonet a year before, "I am Alec, son of Lord Dagonet Monies Hors, of the House of Hors and Squire of Lord Lancelot. In the name of my Master, Lord Lancelot Shieldguard Lyon the Knight Commander and First Knight of the Round Table, release that woman!"

The wealthy man sighed, cleared his throat, and said in an evil scoff, "You are not Lord Lancelot's squire. Lord Lancelot's squire is a boy of fifteen."

_What is with this man? Has he frozen time around his villa! Everyone in the kingdom know who I am!_

Alec pushed back his cloak and stated proudly as his Master's shield and his ranking symbol, Senior Squire, which were embroidered into his tunic top, "I am Alec Hors, son of Marquis Dagonet Monies Hors of the House of Hors. My father is the Head of Finance. I am the Squire of Marquis Lancelot Shieldguard Lyon of the House of Lyon, First Knight of the Round Table, Knight Commander, and King Protectorate! In the name of my Master and King Arthur, Release her **NOW!!**"

Alec watched with amused eyes as the Roman nearly collapsed as his title and rank was made known to them. The seal of Lancelot was famous throughout the Kingdom as well as King Arthur's. There was not a man, woman, or child of any class that did not recognize the emerald and silver shield and the golden lion with twin swords crossed behind it.

At the same time Romans in armor backed up slowly as his Master's name was said. Many who protested Arthur's reign feared Lancelot. However, many, **many**, **many** more loved him for all the good he has done for the Isle of Briton.

The young woman, lurched unsteadily to her feet, and placed shaking hands on his thighs as she said breathlessly even as her dress rose because the Roman still had a hold of her dress, "Thank you my Lord, thank you!"

Alec smiled gently at her and asked soothingly, "What's your name?"

She smiled shakily up at him and said, "I am Ina and I am his father's sex slave. I was born in Gaul to Lord Trajan Sectarian and my mother, who was also of Gaul. I was sold to Romulus' family when I was eight. Master Vicerius threatened to have me killed a few days ago unless I left his lands. Remus here, he has been doing all he can to keep me here so he can have the pleasure of killing me himself, and his bastard sibling I carry in my womb."

Alec nodded and said strongly, "You, Remus Romulus, will let her go freely and without impunity. Do you understand? In the name of King Arthur, answer me!"

Remus, who had managed to remain in control of himself, stood tall, released the woman, who he still held captive by gripping her dress with white knuckles, smiled maliciously and kicked her savagely in the center of her stomach as he said contemptuously, "As the King wishes, so shall it be."

Alec roared with rage as he swung himself off Constance and pulled out his sword at the same time.

All that was running through his head was the sight of his mother leaning over a chamber pot throwing up her midday meal and a lot of blood and the thought that his beloved mother was dying and he could not do anything to heal her. He was not about to let Ina go through the depression that had befallen his mother because she had lost the child.

Alec was like a man possessed! He attacked the nearby Roman's with his sword with a bloodthirsty passion he had never felt before. In just a few strokes, as he was well-armed and the Roman's were not because they had only prepared themselves to face a defenseless woman, the Roman soldiers were laying on the ground in a helpless, bloody mess.

Alec moved purposely towards the Roman, who paid the soldiers to be his personal bodyguards (mercenaries), and roughly manhandled him. Almost immediately, Remus Romulus had his hands tied behind his back and his feet bound too. Alec nonchalantly tossed the wealthy son of the Roman Lord over his horse that was tethered to Constance.

Alec then turned to the woman and told her in a serious tone, "I want you to travel to Kameland City-Proper and speak to Healer Selina. You will find her in the public Healing Chambers."

With that, Alec handed Ina five gold coins stamped with the busts of Arthur and Cordelia one on either side and continued on his way to Hadrian's Wall with Remus slung over his horse like a sack of potatoes.

_King Arthur will want to deal with him, personally._ Alec thought with a mischievous grin.

Alymere, who had caught up to Alec since Alec had stopped to offer aid to a woman in need, smiled in approval and marked on a sheet of parchment; **protecting the weak.**

Daylight was waning, but Alec refused to rest. In fact, he only rested when his horse, Constance, refused to move another step. Alec grinned as his horse's stomach, loudly, informed them all that she was hungry.

He dismounted and said as he pulled an apple from one of his travel bag, "Here you go girl...enjoy."

As their horses recuperated, Alec helped Remus down from his horse, untied his ropes just enough for him to pull his hands to the front of his body by bringing them down and under his feet, and handed him a soft cool loaf of bread.

When he turned his back on Remus, Alec turned his face towards the sky and thought _it is nearing the witching hour...I must reach the Wall sometime today! Father, Master, the Uncles, and King Arthur **MUST** know about Attila's treachery!_

Then in a burst of scattered leaves and cracking sticks, Alec spun around and crossed his arms with a smirk. Remus was stumbling around, quite loudly, in his attempt to escape. Alec nearly burst into boisterous laughs as tree limbs caught in Remus' pure white Roman Toga and scratched his pretty face.

It was ridiculous!

As Remus, in a panic-like mindset, sporadically pulled and yanked himself free from the tree limbs, tripped over an uprooted tree root, Alec's attempt to suppress his laughs failed.

**_"Ahhahahahahahah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"_**

Alec could feel the venomous, murderous stare of Remus Romulus, but he found himself not caring. In fact, he stopped caring about what other Romans thought a long time ago. He knew from personal experience that Romans were not the most tolerant people, and most often than not, they were as savage as they claimed other races to be.

He learned that from his bastard of a birth father-Marius.

Alec shook his head and slowly trotted after Remus. The Squire of Lancelot easily caught up to Remus and picked him up as if he weighed no more than a sack of grains.

As Alec dragged him, on his back to their horses-over a **LOT** of broken branches and pointy rocks-Dagonet's son had to give Remus a little credit. For a Roman who was tied up, Remus managed to crawl a good ways away, but Alec could have easily followed the trail left behind the Roman Lord's son. Tristran's training was far too tough and good for him **NOT** to miss the trail left behind by Remus' body.

When they reached their horses again, Alec roughly retied the bounds around Romulus' ankles and unwound the ones around his wrists. As expected, Alec ducked a wild swing and shoved Remus to the ground. As Remus gasped out in pain from the landing and the shove, Alec straddled the

Roman Lord's son and painfully pulled his arms back behind him.

With his arms bonded tightly behind his back Alec, once again, slung Remus on top of his horse as he was a dead man's corpse. Alec shivered at the analogy.

As Remus shouted and raged at him about his ill-treatment of his _'Noble Persona'_, Alec, with his feet, smudged up the area to make it look like no one had rested there.

Another one of Lord Tristran's lectures-never let **ANYBODY** know where you've been as that is a **LARGE** clue as to where you are going or where you have **ALREADY** been.

Alymere, who had hidden himself in a large tree, observed Alec from one of the thickest branches he could find. The Knight sent to watch over and grade Alec nodded in approval. Alec had so far shown his willingness to help those who were weaker than he was, wrought out justice, showed mercy to those who do not deserve it (Remus), and has shown great strength. Moreover, he had traveled a far distance in only four, nearly five, hours. That showed great endurance.

_Commander Lyon will be proud to know that his Senior Squire is undertaking his trails and passing them flawlessly!_ The young Knight thought with a large smile.

As Habren followed, somewhat meekly, behind her eldest brother, she asked hesitantly, "Lancelot, will you stay for a while? I'd like to talk...really talk to you, brother."

Lancelot turned his head over his shoulder, sighed, and said with a small smile, "I'd like that too, little sister."

Tarkan piped in hopefully, "May Melean, Pappy, and I join in too?"

Lancelot shrugged carelessly and said as he opened the chamber's heavy oak doors and plopped himself down in the largest chair the four Lion Tribesmen had ever seen, "I do not care. These are your chambers whilst you are here. If you will notice, there are three other doors in this wing. You can pick your own chambers."

Habren sat down silently on the large bed and gasped as she sunk in about two inches, "What is this made of?! It feels divine!"

Lancelot eyed her bed and smirked. As he placed his hands on the back of his head, he said, "This was once my chambers while I served Rome. That bed is made from expensive goose feathers and wool from sheep."

Melean shot to his feet, from his place beside his wife, Lancelot's sister, and exclaimed, "This was yours when you served **ROME?!?!?** How is that possible?! They'd **NEVER** pay for such meaningless expenses-especially for conscripts!!!"

Lancelot threw back his head and laughed as his hands fell to his lap and said, "That's true, Rome did not buy it for me…."

He slowed down and eyed his siblings, friend, and brother-n-law seriously, as he finished, "But Arthur did."

Lancelot sighed as the one question he hoped would not come up-did, "Why did King Arthur pay for it? You are Sarmatian and he was Roman at the time?"

Lancelot closed his eyes and said softly as he cast his mind back nearly twenty-one years ago-to a time when he was still a scared and lonely boy-man of thirteen who wished his mother were there to comfort him, "We had only been in Briton for two days when we arrived at Hadrian's Wall and the Milestone, Vindolanda. We were immediately called to order to meet our new Commander, Lucius Artorius Castus. As Arthur walked among us, he came to me and asked for my name. I was sarcastic and asked, _"Why?"_ It was not like he really wanted to know me, or so I thought. The Legionary took his whip, and just as he made to whip me for my insolence, Arthur had Excalibur up at arms and the whip wrapped around it instead of hitting and hurting me. Arthur looked at me and said soothingly, "It was a request and men do not have to answer to requests." With that, he walked away. I was so shocked at I told him my name and thanked him for doing what he did. After that we became friends."

Habren blinked and said in awe, "He did…but that's not how Roman Commanders act! He should have let the Legionary hit you."

She watched him as he shook his head, smiled, and answered once again, "Arthur has never been the typical Roman. Even from the beginning, he believed in Free Will and that all men are created equal. He even had the Round Table there that very first day, so when we met there for the first time we all saw each other as equals."

Pappy blinked and shook his head as he added on in an attempt to steer the direction of the conversation **AWAY **from Arthur, "So, tell us about your family here. Tell us something about them."

Lancelot's eyes brightened and a smile bloomed across his face as he replied with love reflecting in his voice, "Well, I guess I shoulder start with Arthur. He is my commander, my king, my best friend, my cousin, and most importantly my brother. I can tell him anything, do anything, and not feel ashamed about what I have said, or did because he will not degrade me. Then there is Cordelia, Arthur's wife and Emmy's cousin. She is a lot like Arthur in the sense that she is loving, calming, and a gentle commander. She is very nice and if you will let yourselves, you can love her too."

His smile grew even larger as he added, "Then there is my Emmy. She is everything you would ever want in a woman. She is warm, kind, gentle, understanding, peaceful, and smart. She is a warrior and a healer and she is our Lady of Peace. She has brought great honor to my house and I love her very much. My twins, Erlina and Enid, they are my angels. I love them so much it hurts sometimes. I would never hurt them for all the greens of the Steppes. They are smart, sweet, funny, warm, and kind just like their mother, and Cadman, he is my salvation. He will survive me into the next generation and bring great honor and prestige to our house and I will love him forever no matter what he does in his life."

Lancelot blinked and shook his head as a mist clears from a lake. He smiled at his old tribesman and ended, "There are too many children, Knights, and Ladies to explain them all individually, so I'll just say this, "I love them all with all my heart and would not wish them harm for any reason-even betrayal."

Habren and Tarkan looked deeply into each other's eyes with awe and a hint of envy. They loved their mother and father very much, and Tarkan loved Jessiopeia with all his heart, but he did not think he could love them with such depth as Lancelot claims to love his own.

_Perhaps he loves so because he knows the horror of pain and war, and to love is the greatest purity of the heart…he has grown in such ways that I will never be able to aspire too._

Lancelot cleared his throat and asked instead, "And mother and father, how are they truly?"

Habren shrugged and said sincerely, "They miss you. They think you are dead, but then again, everyone thought you had died. However, when none of you returned, the tribes thought that perhaps instead of death, you were forced to stay against your will. That is why we came here in the first place. We came to bring you home because we thought you…"

Lancelot interrupted with understanding flooding his system, "You thought we were forced to stay behind by Arthur! You came to rescue us."

The four Sarmatians nodded silently. They remained silent for a few more minutes, much to Lancelot's discomfort, but Melean perked up a bit and said, "Agrimpasa will not stop in her pursuits of you Lancelot. What are you going to do?"

Lancelot sighed and answered in a tone that killed that particular topic of discussion, "I will ignore her to the best of my ability. That's it."

Habren felt tears welling up in her eyes, because she knew that her and the other's arriving had caused her brother and his fellow Knights great pains in their hearts and souls, but she chocked them back and said, "Attila is still dangerous brother. I know we promised to kill him should he cause you anymore harm, but there are still others we need to convince. What can we do to show them that those of non-pure Sarmatian blood are just as worthy of the name Sarmatian?"

Unfortunately, before the First Knight could say anything, Aldus stormed the room and cried out, "My Lord! Your Squire, Alec is here! He brings bad news! You must come, now!"

Lancelot paled and rushed out of the room not bothering to see if his siblings, friend, and brother-n-law had followed him out or not.

It had been hours since his last rest, but Alec was determined to reach the Wall by early afternoon the next day. As he passed by Bala Lake, the squire of Lancelot made sure to stop and pay his respects to the Lady of the Lake. Remus, from his place slung over the horse, snorted and mumbled something that Alec knew was dishonorable to his person, but as always-he ignored it.

Alymere, who was very proud of Alec, nodded and checked off the last objectives on his list- **stamina to withstand the temptations of sleep and a sense of responsibility to push himself beyond his normal limits.**

Alec's strength was waning, but his determination to reach the Wall was stronger than his tired body. As the sun reached mid afternoon, Alec's eyes widened in pride and awe-he had finally reached Hadrian's Wall.

As he galloped through the stone gatehouse, he yelled out strongly yet coarsely, "Bring me King Arthur! I am Squire of Lord Lancelot! Summon forth the King and the Lords of Briton!"

Aldus blinked at him but rushed to do as he was bided. He might be Lancelot's second-n-command, but Alec Hors had more influence and power since he was Lord Dagonet's son and Lord Lancelot's squire soon-to-be-Knight of the Round Table.

As the Knights arrived, Lancelot demanded, "What's wrong Alec?! Why are you here?!"

Alec turned to his father and said as Dagonet opened his mouth, "Mother, Lucan, and Imogene are fine father. It's Katheryne who is dead."

Tristran came right up into Alec's face and demanded harshly, "What was that, boy?"

Alec met the scout's gray bland yet smoldering eyes evenly and replied, "Miss Katheryne, our apple girl, was found murdered by Aunt Emogen who was walking a teething Cadman. She came upon her in the closet and called for the guards. Sir Morton went in and found a dagger with Attila's initials engraved in the steel blade. Attila murdered Katheryne! I was sent by the Ladies of Camelot and Queen Cordelia to inform you all of this My Lords, My Master, My King."

With that, he bowed and waited for King Arthur's next order.

While his son had been explaining the entire story to the other Knights, Dagonet had spun around and ran with all his might towards a specific chamber within the Wall's protective boundaries.

Habren and the other Sarmatians of the Lion Tribe, who had followed Lancelot, gasped as Arthur turned raging eyes of lightening green upon them and said in a deep, dark, dangerous voice with Dagonet appearing in their peripheral vision dragging Miskoc to the group of gathered people, "Attila **WILL DIE!!!!!**"


	17. Chapter 17

Reunion 17

Sorry it has taken me so long to update this. I took a break from writing, to read and regain my muses for this story. I know what I want to happen in this chapter, but I couldn't think up any fillers for the story, so I waited. I hope you like it.

Lancelot closed his eyes and desperately tried to reign in his flaying temper. When Alec had arrived, he had felt a pride so powerful for his Squire, that he almost hugged him. Unfortunately, Alec didn't bring good news with him. He bit his lip as he gave a silent farewell to their _'Apple Girl'_, Katheryne. He closed his eyes and wished with all his heart that his Emmy and children were okay.

He knew that Arthur would be enraged because their Sarmatian visitors had killed one of their subjects, but he also knew that Arthur had to keep things in perspective. This was the hard part.

He placed his arms around Arthur in an embrace of entrapment as well as comfort as he said, "Arthur, you must calm down!"

Arthur, for the first time in many years, threw off his embrace, and exclaimed, "No! We've tried to be nice and friendly towards these Sarmatians and this is the thanks we get?! I should have them all put in irons and sentenced to life in the prisons!"

**"DAMNED SARMATIAN SONS OF THE DEVIL!!!!!"**

Lancelot winced as Habren and the other Sarmatians gasped at Arthur's declaration. The First Knight of the Round Table knew that his friend and King was not playing, and to a certain extent he believed that the Sarmatians deserved to be thrown in the cells, but he also knew that this was the jurisdiction of Tristran and Connor.

**"SNAKE-FACED SHE-WHORES!!!"**

Dagonet, who was still holding on to Miskoc, looked into his son's eyes and demanded that he explain everything so Miskoc could hear it.

Alec looked around at the gathered Knights, the men that he honored above all else, and said, "Lady Emogen was walking Cadman, who has started teething, when she came upon a horrible feeling and scent. She opened the storage doors, and found Miss Katheryne there dead. She called for the guards and the other Ladies. When Sir Morton went inside to gather evidence, he found Attila's dagger lying on Katheryne's body."

Tristran, ever the calm one of the Knights, asked for even more details as Connor demanded, "Lance, take Arthur away from here so Tristran and I can work in peace and get to the bottom of this!"

**"HORSE-DUNGGED SNIFFLERS!!!!"**

Lancelot grimaced and said as he pulled on Arthur's dark blue cloak, "Come, Arthur, let Connor and Tristran work."

As Arthur gazed around the rest of his Knights, whilst still cursing the Sarmatians, allowed himself to be, reluctantly, lead away before he did anything that he regretted.

Gawain eyed Miskoc warily, and ordered, "You will hand over Attila until the duration of the trial is over!"

Miskoc, who was very disturbed by the accusations, bowed in obedience and said in a voice that showed his willingness to help in anyway, "It will be done."

In a single spinning motion, he turned on his heel and trotted into the Wall's chambers that had been given to him and the other Sarmatians. Since he was so focused on retrieving Attila, he was a little shocked to discover Dagonet was easily keeping pace with him.

As they reached Attila's locked room, Dagonet said as he banged on the large, heavy oak doors, "Attila! Open up in the name of King Arthur! You are hereby under arrest for the murder of Miss Katheryne!!"

As all this happened, Agrimpasa, who was trailing her no-good brothers around because she didn't want to get lost in the three-hundred plus year old Roman Fort, demanded, "What is going on?!"

Since Lancelot was busy trying to calm Arthur down, whilst fighting his own tempter, Tristran and Connor were attempting to find out what truly happened from Alec, and Gawain and Galahad were organizing the Court Chambers with Aldus' help, Bors answered, "Attila has been accused of murder. Now, Miskoc has already promised a blood oath with Lady Habren as a witness. According to Sarmatian Law, Attila and those who support him must die. Fortunately, for him, Camelot has rules and regulations about situations such as these. Attila will be given and fair trial in the Trial Chambers with Lord Connor Arbitrator Truth."

While all this was happening, Alec found himself facing Tristran's inquiry, "How was the dagger found?"

Alec answered, "Sir Morton found the dagger resting on her chest. Miss Katheryne's body revealed no knife wounds, so Sir Morton deduced that while Miss Katheryne hadn't been killed with the dagger, Attila had been in the area. This, while it acquitted him of the murder, **at that time during the investigation**, it does make him suspect since he was there and not in his chambers as he was supposed too."

Connor took a step forward, to draw Alec's attention onto him and away from Tristran, and asked as he wrote a few things down on parchment, "How did she die?"

Alec straightened to his full height, and answered, "Sir Morton, with Lady Enys' help has deduced that Miss Katheryne died by having her neck completely crushed. She, Miss Katheryne, most likely didn't put up to much of a struggle because her neck was crushed from behind. Her neck revealed a perfect hand size and shape as well as a fingerprint bruise."

Tristran ended with a nod, "So, Sir Morton's conclusion is that Attila murdered Miss Katheryne by crushing her neck. He tried to hide the crime by hiding Miss Katheryne's body. He would have gotten away with it too, had it not been for the fact that his dagger was accidentally left there-most likely unknowingly-correct?"

Alec met both Tristan and Connor's even, serious stares, and answered confidentially, "Yes."

As the Sarmatians paled, Gawain couldn't help but feel a deep satisfying smirk form on his lips. Miskoc's _Blood Oath_ promise bled through the ranks-meaning that all of them were bound to the blood oath.

Agrimpasa felt her face drain of all blood. If she was found out to be a supporter of Attila's, she'd be killed!

_This can't happen! I'm Princess Agrimpasa of the Wolf Tribe, betrothed of the High Prince Lancelot of the Lion Tribe! Without me, the two lines will die out! I must find someway to make sure that Tor, Artur, and Attila don't identify me!_

Galahad as the Trial Chambers started to look like a real courtroom, glanced back towards the guarded group of shocked pale Sarmatians.

They looked scared.

They looked like they regretted coming to Briton.

_Interesting, my **dear, sweet, innocent** little sister looks the worst of them all…I should point that out later on…_

Bors, who was in command of those watching over the Sarmatians, raised his head, stared at the two of the guards, and ordered, "Bring forth Tor and Artur in irons!"

As the previously ignored, amazingly silent Habren made to protest, Bors interrupted rudely as Miskoc and Dagonet arrived with Attila heavily chained in between them, "They are to be questioned because them might know something we want to know."

The sun was just starting to peak across the emerald plains, when Ina, sex-slave of Vicerius Romulus, tiredly crested the last hill in between her and her goal-Kameland City-Proper.

In exhaustion, she stumbled through the gates, which were guarded by two well-armed Knights, and fell to her knees in front of a white marble water fountain.

She crawled up to the fountain gratefully and thrust her hands into the crystal, clear blue water within.

As she greedily drank her fill, as a young, friendly voice said with an accompanying white face cloth, "Are you okay?"

Ina replied thankfully, "Yes, I am now. Thank you."

Ina's helper, a young girl of twelve or thirteen, with waist length curly blond hair and snapping blue eyes, smiled, shrugged, and replied, "Your welcome! Welcome to Camelot I am Caoimhe, daughter of Bors and Vanora. Who are you and what is your business here in our fair city?"

"I am Ina and I am looking for the Healer Selina."

Caoimhe smiled, offered Ina her hand, and said as Ina grasped her offered limb, "I'll take you. It isn't far, actually."

As they walked into a smooth, mostly white building full of sweet smelling herbs, Caoimhe called out, "Selina! You have a patient!"

Ina waited with belated breath, not believing that her journey was over. Nothing in her life had ever been easy, and she was a little wary of what life threw at her next. After a minute or two had passed, an older woman with curly blond hair and glittering blue eyes appeared. She was muttering to herself and vigorously whipping away all the blood from her hands.

Ina watched with a small smile as her young escort lunged at the other woman while squealing happily, "Enys!!!"

_Perhaps they are family?_

Ina watched the older woman catch Caoimhe with a laugh.

As they turned to her, the blonde-haired person said, "Caoimhe, it's good to see you too! Now, you head on home! Your mother is asking for you!"

She then turned to her and asked with a friendly smile, "What's your name?"

Ina gulped and replied as Caoimhe waved good-bye cheerfully, "I'm Ina and a young man named Alec bid me to see the Healer Selina as I was kicked rather harshly in the stomach a day ago. I'm pregnant, you see."

Enys frowned thoughtfully and answered, "Well, Selina isn't here right now, but I can help you. I am the Senior Healer of Kameland and Camelot. I am Enys Tranquil Wolfe of the House of Wolfe."

Ina burst into tears as she burst and explained her entire woe-filled life, "I was born to Lord Trajan Sectarian and a Gaul woman, who was his sex-slave. When I was eight, I was sold to Romulus' family when I was eight. Master Vicerius kept me on as a house-maid until I reached fifteen summers. Then he claimed me as his sex-slave. I lived as such until I found out I was pregnant. That was two months ago. When Remus, Master Vicerius' eldest son, found out about my child, he tried to kill me himself since his father dismissed me with a warning that if I did not leave his lands he'd have me and the bastard child killed."

She burst into more tears and cried out, "I'm scared! What if the child is hurt or worse…dead?!"


	18. Chapter 18

Reunion 18

NOTICE!!!! The staff used by Duncan is not mine!! I borrowed it off Tamora Pierce's Circle of Magic, Circle Opens, and The Will of the Empress!!!! The staff belongs to Daja, the Trader!!!

Galahad, Gawain, and Jols, took a step back from their position of Room Conductors so they could gaze about the old Round Table room with pride. What once had been an old, somewhat dusty room filled with mementos of their days as Knights in service to Rome, was now spotless and gleaming with the power and prestige of Arthur Pendragon's reign.

On the wall straight ahead of them, hung a large tapestry depicting the Pendragon Emblem; the golden dragon hovering protectively over the castle of Camelot, and in front of the castle, ensuring its position of power and Knighthood blazed Excalibur. The tapestry went from the ceiling to about two feet above the floor. The other two feet were camouflaged by the long rectangular oak table that spanned almost the entire length of the room where Connor, Tristan, the other Knights, Lancelot, and Arthur, whom would **NOT** be seated in the center, would sit during the duration of the trial.

Hanging loyally to the right of the Pendragon Family Banner, hung the Lyon Family banner. It was about half the size of Pendragon's but it was nonetheless important. The golden lion with emerald eyes with front paw claws stretched out ready for combat was ever a reminder that Lancelot was eternally loyal to Arthur. Moreover, his Twin Demon Blades that crossed behind the lion showed just how battle ready the House of Lyon truly was, should Arthur ever call upon Lancelot's blades once more.

Lastly, just to the right of the Lyon's family standard, a slightly smaller standard for the House of Bear was seen. It was cut into four pieces, but the upper left hand side of the shield was split again in half with the left side painted black and the right side painted white, the upper right hand side of the shield was painted bronze and the lower left hand side of the shield was painted bronze too. Lastly, the lower right hand side of the shield was again cut in half, the right side was painted white, and the left side was painted black. In the center of the shield was a golden man with his arms crossed.

On the left, where the Palðer (Panther) Family banner would normally hang, Marque Connor Arbitrator Truth's Family banner hanged prominently. The upper left hand side was painted a burnt orange; the upper right hand side was painted bronze, and the lower left side was painted bronze too. The lower right side was painted burnt orange as well. In the center of the shield was a golden set of balances. On the left balance was a square with bars down it. On the right side was a feather floating freely above the balance.

Lastly, just to the left of the House of Truth's standard was House Palðer's standard. It was cut into four pieces and painted a dark purple, nearly black color, and bronze. In the center of the shield was a golden panther with its claws extended and its sharp eyes piercing ahead of it. Behind the panther was a Sarmatian bow and arrow.

Gawain stared at the five colorful tapestries. Those five standards told the kingdom of Briton who held the judicial power in the kingdom: Arthur, Lancelot, Conner, Bors, and Tristran. It wasn't that their power wasn't as important, but when it came to judicial power, those five men held all the power. His power and influence was more heavily invested in war and foreign disputes, and he liked it that way.

He glanced to the right and saw that the right wall had been cleaned of all the stains that had marred it since its very first scar-twenty years ago. Beveidre coddled Lancelot too many times in a very short amount of time, and forced Lancelot to shove the older Knight away from him causing Beveidre to drop his wine goblet and stain the wall just to the right of where Lancelot's chain once stood.

Instead, a series of two rows with six chairs had been established for the twelve men Connor would entrust to judge Attila fairly. Behind the chairs were three paintings. The first one, the closest to Bors' standard, showed a warm summer day with flowing, emerald green hills, and a group of children, mostly all Bors' brood but Erlina, Mordwen, and Briana were there too, playing Lancelot's silly game of **'IT'**.

The second painting, the middle one, showed all twelve of the first and foremost Knights of the Round Table: Arthur, Lancelot, Tristran, himself, Galahad, Bors, Dagonet, Connor, Sean, Dean, Jols, and Ganis all dressed in their finest royal finery. He had to wince as he remembered that day. It had been the hottest any of them had ever remembered experiencing in Briton, and it had made them all plead to the heavens for the normally cool, rainy, wet days, so their black heavy cotton finery wouldn't sweat them to nothing.

The last painting, the one closest to the main chamber doors, depicted Marque Connor sitting on his large throne-like oak chair with a golden scale in his right hand. It provided proof that **HE** and not Arthur, ruled in the courtroom. But, it was out of the way enough, that it downplayed his power-just the way Connor liked it.

On the opposite wall, hanged various weapons that were currently out of the training cycle; they were dull and useless, but worthy of praise nonetheless. Under the weapons, was a thick woven carpet about five feet wide and twenty feet long. It spanned the entire length of the room except for a foot on with side. Resting on the carpet were five desks: three for scribes to write down everything that was said during the trial, one desk for the Court Officer, and the last one for one of the Dukes, so they could act as a witness to make sure that none of the accused are treated unfairly.

Right in front of him, were two desks twice the size of the first five. They were made to seat two people comfortably together, so they could discuss the events of the trail privately, yet still be in plain sight. The one closest to the weapons wall was for the defense and the one closest to the paintings was for the prosecutor.

Lastly, behind him, his brother, and Jols were a series of five rows of chairs. Each row held twelve seats. It amazed him that they could fit so many people into this room, when the most he could ever remember being in this room was at most fifty-five people. Now, with all these seats, they could fit almost one-hundred people. He shook his head. This was going to be a circus of trouble-he just knew it.

"Well brother, this looks like a proper Court Chambers doesn't it?" asked Galahad as he lightly slapped his older brother's shoulder with a large grin.

Gawain sighed and answered with a proud air about him, "Yeah, it does. So, shall we harken the others to us, brother dear?"

Jols snorted at their antics and said with a dry air, "Come on you two, no time for playing now. We have to start this ugly business now. I can't believe Katheryne's dead. She was such a sweet girl…"

The brothers of House Wolf nodded sadly, as they remembered the shy, sweet lady that brought them their daily apples-daily fruits to more accurate. It didn't matter what type of fruit they wanted, she always brought them to their chambers, faithfully, everyday. Tristran especially liked her-she gave him his daily obsession-apples!

As they exited the chambers, they came upon their fellow Knights standing around with a group of Sarmatians being guarded by a group of ten heavily armed soldiers, most of whim had been trained by Galahad himself. The guards stood at attention as their teacher walked by, and nodded respectfully back at them with a small smile. He was proud of these men. They were like his own children at times. He had brought them from the scared, flighty men-to weak to stand up and fight for themselves, to the brave well-armed soldiers they were now, who were not afraid to spill another's blood in the name of Briton, Arthur, Lancelot, and the entire Round Table.

The three stopped in front of their friend and king and the younger Wolf brother said evenly, "It is ready, My King."

Arthur now sedated by Lancelot's calm reasoning, nodded and commanded, "Let us adjourn to the Court Chambers now. Sons and Daughter of Sarmatia, you are welcome to come and witness these proceedings as long as you do not interrupt them, understood?"

Habren, who had taken up to mantle of spokesperson for their people, stood tall and replied seriously, "We understand, thank you for this opportunity."

Arthur nodded and said as he waved the other Knights ahead of him, "Then shall we enter? Connor, this is your territory, you first My Lord."

Connor nodded, straightened his back and shoulders, and said regally, "Let's get this started."

The entire group of gathered men and women followed their hosts into the court chambers, and felt their jaws drop. The room was like nothing they had ever seen before. It surpassed all the other chambers they had seen whilst in Camelot, barring the Great Hall where the royal court presided in, in their throne-like chairs.

As the Knights of the Round Table sat down in their chairs, Tarkan, who couldn't help himself, blurted out in a questioning tone, "Why ain't the King in the center chair?"

Lancelot eyed his younger brother with an impatient air, and answered, "Because, My Lord, King Arthur, isn't the judge for this trial, Lord Connor is. That is why Connor is seated in the center chair, King Arthur is to his left, and Lord Tristran is seated to his right. Now please, quiet yourself."

Tarkan, suitably chastised, slumped down in his seat beside his sister, Habren, and grumbled, "It was only a question…besides it hasn't even started yet."

Lancelot cast a dark, agitated look towards his brother causing him and Habren to freeze up. The gleam in Lancelot's eyes reminded them eerily of their father, Babai.

Habren's eyes shot open as she realized just **WHY** Lancelot looked so much like their father just then _that's the look father got when we irritated him as children. It was his parental warning look. It meant that if we continued to act as if we were, we'd be in for it at home!_

Connor banged on the table and called for order, "Order! Order! Everyone be seated please!"

The Sarmatians did as they were told. They didn't want to aggravate their hosts anymore than they already had.

It didn't look good for Attila, Artur, and Tor-the Trial hadn't even started yet.

Connor turned towards one of the five desks and commanded, "Aldus! Bring in the accused!"

Aldus bowed with his right hand fisted over his heart and said, "Yes, My Lord."

As the Sarmatians started the murmur amongst themselves, Galahad who had been keeping a hard eye on his sister, rose from his chair, and bent down to speak softly in Connor's ear, "You might want to question Agrimpasa as well, Connor. Something tells me, she has got something planned."

Connor raised and eyebrow and tilted his head in concurrence.

Tristran interrupted, "As much as I wish we didn't have too, we need to bring in Duncan and the two solicitors."

Connor rolled his eyes and nodded as he called out, "Summon Duke Duncan for the proceedings and summon forth the solicitors!"

An otherwise unseen guard, that stood in the shadows of the large double doors, bowed and exited the chambers. The guard's exit startled many Sarmatians, as they hadn't any clue that she was there.

Ilona, who has mostly stayed in the background the entire time she had been in Briton, stood up and signed, _"Who was that?"_

Tristran looked to Arthur. His friend and King nodded.

Tristran answered, "That was Lady Chloe, Lady Knight of the Round Table, and Order of the Dragon. She is one of the first Lady Knights.

Just as he closed his mouth, Aldus returned with three men. One was older than everyone in the room and the other two were of average age.

As the three men walked confidently to their established seats, Duke Duncan, a man not quite advanced in his age-he looked at least a decade younger than Attila, had shoulder length dirty blond hair and snapping emerald eyes. His skin was sun beaten and weathered, but still noble in appearance. In his right hand, he carried a staff with two gold caps on either end. Even from a distance, the Sarmatians could see the elegant runes carved into the six feet long wooden staff.

When the other two men reached their desks, in the middle of the courtroom, the man with black, lanky hair, dull brown eyes, and a roguish smirk on lips announced without preamble, "My King, My Lords, I, Sir Owen, the Defense Solicitor is present!"

The other man, with wild, flaming red hair, and deep pools for eyes, glared sharply at his opponent, and said more calmly, more humbly, "My King, My Lords, I, Sir Ioan, the Prosecuting Solicitor is present as well!"

Arthur stood up and said gravely as a shadow emerged from the wall behind the Knights and whispered something in Connor's ear, "Then let the proceedings begin in all fairness."

Pappy, who was still defensive about the travel over from Camelot to the Wall, snorted and grumbled to himself, "Not likely…"

Connor stood up and said, "Bring forth the accused!"

The shadow detached itself from the wall, and the Sarmatians gasped.

It was Chloe!

Connor smirked at their faces and decided to have mercy on them-they looked so confused!

"I sent Chloe to summon the Duke and the Solicitors, and I sent Aldus to retrieve Attila. They switched whilst still in the hallways. Does that clear things up for you?" asked Connor with a sarcastic, mocking inflection in his voice.

Many of the Sarmatians, gasped as their oldest Elder-never minding the fact that he had been dishonored by them and removed from his Elders Position-was brought in, in chains, glared at Connor, but he ignored them in favor of eyeing Attila darkly.

Atilla, who was brought in, in irons around both his wrists and ankles, met Connor's glare in a clear challenge of wits, and Connor was glad to accommodate him. Connor flinched as two sharp elbows slammed into his gut on either side on his stomach at the same time.

"Oof!" he whooshed.

Arthur, who had been one of the people to gut Connor, spied Attila's superior look and said dryly to bring the sixty-two year old man down a few steps, "We gutted him, so we could get things started. You in no way defeated him in a battle wills, Attila. Stand down, now!"

Attila frowned, but remained silent. He was old enough to realize that this wasn't a good situation and he knew how to hold his tongue. Now he understood why Agrimpasa was so eager to please Tor, Artur, and himself not to long ago….

**_He and the other two, _my own personal idiots_, were chained to the dark, dank Roman prison cell, and chained to each other when they heard the sounds of someone walking through the empty halls, who carried a heavy key ring. _**

_**They sat up straighter, in hope, but when they saw who it was, they sighed and slumped down once more.**_

_**The person on the other side of the bars, smirked and said in a flirty tone, "Now, is that anyway to treat the woman who is about to give you your last wish?"**_

_**Tor rolled his eyes and asked exasperatedly, "What do you want, Agrimpasa?"**_

_**The curly blond smiled invitingly at them and said coyly as she twirled the keys around her pointer finger, "Now, now, the Knights are holding you all here because Attila here was stupid enough to drop his dagger in the same closet that he dumped the apple girl."**_

_**Attila groaned and said darkly, "I strangled that bitch! How'd my dagger get there?"**_

_**Agrimpasa looked him square in the eye and said, "It must have dropped."**_

_**Attila smiled sarcastically at her as Artur demanded, "Then why are we here for his folly?"**_

_**Agrimpasa smiled and answered, "Because, you two are his biggest supporters here, and the Knights want to question you about Attila. That's why I'm here, actually."**_

_**Tor raised an eyebrow and prodded her along, "And…"**_

_**Agrimpasa, opened the door, placed the keys on a hook just opposite of the bars, entered, dropped to her knees before them and said in a slightly panicked tone, "I cannot have you three telling them about me being one of your supporters, Attila. Name whatever it is you want from me, and I'll do is so long as you keep my name out of everything."**_

_**The three men eyed one another in an opportunistic way as Attila grinned nastily and said, "Very well…but first…help me with something."**_

_**Agrimpasa's head shot up as she demanded, "What?! Tell me!"**_

_**He stood up, thrust his hips forward, and commanded, "Suck me BITCH!!!"**_

_**Agrimpasa smirked knowingly, crawled up to him in a seductive manner, and said in a fake coy-like voice, "Of course, My Master, should I do it as I have always done, or shall I grow adventurous since we have company?"**_

_**Attila grinned evilly at her and commanded in a voice that totally proved to his two cellmates that he had no morals, whatsoever, "Suck me as I want it Bitch, or I'll name you as my first and greatest supporter, oh lover mine."**_

**_Attila groaned as Agrimpasa sighed lustfully at his tone. He knew that she loved it, craved it when he treated her like a slave. It gave her a rush to know that she could make him loose his steel-like control, and he knew that she had no problems with his age, as most others would think. Despite his advanced age, he was as willowy as ever and his age only increased his experience. He was her best and long lasting lover. In fact, she has been a frequent visitor to his bed over the past sixteen years. Moreover, he had been the one to find her, that very next day after her mother had sold her out to that damned village boy when she was ten. He had taken her in, cared for her, and gave her back her pride. In return, she offered her body to him whenever he wanted her. It was the bet arrangement, _the best manipulation_, he had ever participated in. _And the dumb bitch doesn't even realize that I hate her…I only use her for the great sex!_He thought victoriously as she expertly untied his breeches and started to tease his male-organ into life._**

"**ATTILA!!!!!!!!!!!"** came a voice so loudly that it caused him jumped a good foot into the air and jolt himout of his thoughts.

"What?!" he demanded as he glared at the man seated in the center of the long rectangular table.

Lord Conner raised and unimpressed eyebrow, and drawled, "We are waiting for you to tell your Solicitor about your side of the story, so he can defend you against the Kingdom of Camelot."

Attila growled and said harshly, "I want no help from the likes of you! How do I know that he'll protect my interests?"

Connor smirked and said easily as he waved his hand aside, "That's a risk you are going to have to take."

Attila stared Owen down. He couldn't help but be impressed when the man who was to defend him simple smirked and returned the stare.

"Very well, it's like this…" muttered Attila as the two men leaned in close so no others could hear what they were discussing.

_Maybe I can change this to my liking after all…_ Attila thought with a delightful smirk.


	19. Chapter 19

Reunion 19

Lord Connor stood up and exclaimed, "Have both sides of the argument to a reasonable place to which we can start these evil yet necessary proceedings?"

Sir Owen and Attila shared a glance and nodded as Sir Owen declared, "We are ready, My Lord Connor."

Sir Ioan, who had been in a deep discussion with Lord Tristran concerning the murder of Katheryne, looked up and said confidently, "Yes, My Lord Connor, we are both ready."

Lord Connor glanced quickly around his courtroom. Duke Duncan was grave, the Sarmatians were wary, his fellow Knights were angry yet willing to hold out their final judgment until all the evidence had been accounted for and reviewed, the Solicitors were both confident, and his twelve jurors were politely curious, as they waited for the proceedings to begin.

With a regal nod, he sat back down on his thrown-like chair and said loudly, "We are here today to try Lord Attila duHuk of the Horse tribe of the Sarmatian Tribesman. He hereby stands accused of the murder of Miss Katheryne Little, the Royal Families Fruit-Lady, and on this day, May 15, 472, at five o'clock A.M., the proceedings begin as thus: Sir Owen, your opening statements in defense for Lord Attila are ready to be heard."

"Your Majesty, My Lords, gentle Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury, my client, Attila duHuk of the Horse Tribe, has done no wrong. This has all been a series of numerous misunderstandings. My client came to Camelot in search of the _Sons of Sarmatia_ who he thought had been killed because none of them returned to the land of their birth. Instead of cold death, he found warmth and life in the _Sons of Sarmatia_ who refused to go home. Whilst it is unfortunate that Miss Katheryne died, I will strive to convince you all of my clients innocence, and that the real fault lies with the clashing of our cultures and frayed nerves."

Sir Ioan stood up, pulled his top down smartly, and said seriously yet gravely, "Innocent…that is the topic of discussion here. Sir Owen's client will have you believe that he is innocent of all wrong doing. But, let me remind you, because of Attila's so-called innocence, an innocent young girl-woman, Miss Katheryne, is dead. While Sir Owen will try and make you believe his words, I will strive to make you, the Ladies and Gentlemen, Lords, and **Honored Judge**, believe just the opposite. In your hands rests the fate of Attila and the justice for Miss Katheryne. Think on that…a young woman old enough to be our sisters, mothers, aunts, and cousins…is dead thanks to his cruelty and bigotry towards our culture."

Lord Connor cleared his throat and said, "Sir Owen, your witness."

Owen stood up and said clearly, "Yes Your Honor, I call to the stand, Tor, of the Bear Tribe, supporter of Attila."

Their was a frozen amount of time, where the men and women of both Briton and Sarmatia whispered amongst themselves, when Tor was dragged to this feet by two well-muscled men and dragged to the stand seated in front of the Lords High Table.

Duke Duncan stepped forward and asked gravely, "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, by the Blood and Honor of Mithras, Son of Sarmatia?"

Tor's face paled of all color at the older man's words. _This couldn't be possible?! How does he know about the ancient codes of Honor and Truth amongst the Sarmatian councils?! If I answer in a lie and I'm found out, I'll be killed anyways! If I tell the truth, I'm just as badly off…_

Sir Owen jumped to his feet and shouted, "I object, Your Honor! This is not the Oath we as Briton's normally use! It is unfair to use Sarmatian laws whilst under Briton Law!"

Lord Connor raised an eyebrow and asked dryly, "Is it?"

He turned towards Duncan and said with a submissive bow of the head, "Duke Duncan, I tell you this in honesty with all here to witness it. It is true we are using Sarmatian Blood and Honor Oaths here, but that is because on our journey to the Wall, Lord Miskoc, Regent Leader of the Horse Tribe Blood and Honor bound to serve Marque Dagonet Monies Hors, gave us a blood Oath that should any of our people meet their demise whilst they are here, and we find one of their own accountable, the accused will be killed by Miskoc's own hand. To show the Sarmatians that we aren't without chivalry we, **The Knights of the Round Table**, have set up this Trial to try Attila in a fair unbiased setting. Now, is it unfair to Attila, Tor, and all the others we cal forth if they themselves offered the oaths first on our grounds?"

Duke Duncan bowed his head and thought for a moment. His head lifted and turned towards the Sarmatians seated a little ways away from him.

He banged his staff once and asked acutely, "Did you or did you not offer a Blood Oath before this trial, Lord Miskoc?"

Miskoc rose to his feet and announced loudly so that no one could confuse his words with those of other words, "Yes, Duke Duncan, I did offer the Oath. In accordance to our Laws, all those who are traveling with the Oath Bound **MUST** obey the words the bonded had spoken."

Duncan nodded turned towards the High Table, slammed his staff into the stone floor twice more, in sharp taps, and announced, "Equality and Fairness have not been breeched. Sir Tor say your oath word for word as I did."

Tor schooled his features as best as he knew how and answered, "I, Tor BearHound of Sarmatia, Leader of the Bear Tribe, swear to tell the truth as I know it in the Honor and Blood of Mithras, this I swear."

Sir Ioan jumped to his feet and cried out, "Objection! Those were not the words of Duke Duncan!"

Duke Duncan nodded and said, "I agree, use the words of the Oath I told you of Sir Tor, or you'll be in contempt and sent to Miskoc's ward to do with you as he sees fit."

Tor gulped and looked at the older man who he once respected for his fighting prowess, but hated because Miskoc was of the Horse and he the Bear-opposing sides of the same theology. Miskoc was glared heatedly at him and no amount of British winter would ever kill the rage and hatred that burned in the older man's eyes.

He closed his eyes in acceptance and said, "I, Tor Bearhound of the Bear Tribe, swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, by the Blood and Honor of Mithras, may I be killed for dishonoring this sacred pact."

Duncan nodded and returned to his seat.

Sir Owen stood up and asked as he walked up to his witness, "Lord Tor, would you tell the court why you and the others came to Briton. After all, Briton is a long journey from the lands surrounding the Black Sea."

Tor sighed and replied, "It was Princess Habren of the Lion Tribe's idea to come here in the first place. She didn't believe that all fifty of our sons were dead, and wanted to find out what had happened. After a long time period, we were all gathered together and we came here, to Briton. When we arrived, we were shocked. The lands that our fathers had told us about were nothing like the stories at all. All we wanted was to find our dead and send them off with a proper Sarmatian farewell. When we arrived we found that not only were some of our brothers still alive, but they had no intention of telling us of **WHOM** they truly are."

Sir Owen nodded and prodded, "And what did you find out about your fellow Sarmatians?"

Tor shook his head and said angrily, "We found out, that not only did they marry those not of our kind, they had children with the women here, and had children who were half-Sarmatian and half-Briton! **Plus**, they had no intention to go home at all! They wanted to stay! Can you believe it?? They gave up our warm lands for this place!!"

Sir Owen winced at Tor's tone and could tell that many of the women jurors were eyeing his witness like he was a raw juicy leg and they were starving lions. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and thought as he eyed his opponent wistfully _I wish I had his job!! Why do I always get stuck with the lunatics???_

But, as his job ordered of him, Sir Owen of the Round Table would defend his client to the best of his ability, "And how did you feel when you found out that your older brother, whom you adored so much as a child, refused to go home with you?"

Tor blinked and answered more calmly, "I was understandably angry and hurt. Bors is my brother and he didn't come home after his fifteen years were done. He is our villages' true chieftain, not I. He's the one who is supposed to have the supreme Roman training to run our village not I. Plus, he chose to stay with half-breed mongrels and a British cow that tied him to her because she birthed babe after babe for him…they probably aren't even all his! Bors has a perfectly good pureblood Sarmatian betroth at home, all he has to do is go home with me and he can have all the power and children he wants! I don't understand why he chose to stay!"

By the end of his triad, Tor was huffing and puffing badly. Sir Owen gave him an extra minute to regain control of himself and asked one more question before he handed it over to Sir Ioan, "Please describe to the court the Sarmatians obsession with the Purity of Blood."

Tor blinked and answered with the first thing that came to his mind, "It all a matter of pride."

Sir Owen frowned and prodded, "Explain."

Tor shrugged and said, "It all comes down to pride. When we were a free, nomadic people, before the Romans defeated us in battle, our people were numbering in the thousands. We were free to marry whomever we wanted. Our men could marry as many women as they wanted too. Also, age didn't matter between a wealthy man and a woman from a poorer household. Then the war with Rome occurred. Thousands died that day on that field. T'wer better they all died that day, in my honest opinion. But, in the aftermath of that war, where thousands of men and women alike rested in their final graves, only a few thousand of our once grand race survived. But slowly, thanks to the deal of our ancestors, our numbers, instead of growing once more in times of peace, dwindled generation after generation as more and more of our sons were taken by the Empire and made to fight in causes not our own. It wasn't until the times of my grandfather, that our lust for purity became a solution to our dwindling population problem. It was a way for our people to grow once more into the numbers they had once been before Rome utterly destroyed us."

Habren and the others could only sit there in shock. Habren, Tarkan, Garen, Agravine, and Miskoc could only place their heads in their hands and groan. When it had been presented to the court and spectators, it sounded even more horrible than they had thought. _Is this why people claimed that our race is a fierce battle-ready race but a dim witted one as well?_ Habren thought fuzzily.

Sir Owen bit his lip to stop himself from groaning at the stupidity of his client's supporters. He sighed and said crossly, "No further questions, your witness."

Sir Ioan stood up and asked in a politely confused yet sarcastic tone, "So, it's all a matter of Racial Pride…your own words correct?"

Tor blinked stupidly for a minute then answered warily, "Yes…"

Sir Ioan opened his arms as wide as they could without making it look-like he was stretching, and pointed out, "But, Lord Miskoc, who is of the generation of your grandfather's educated reforms, has changed his views on the matter of blood. Why can't you?"

Tor replied promptly like the answer had been scribed into his head countless times until it was an instinctual response, "Because the Pride of Sarmatia demands it."

Sir Ioan raised an eyebrow and tried another tactic, "Lord Tor, why is Pure Sarmatian blood so important to your tribesman? Is the _Purity of Blood_ so important that you would be willing to destroy your own nieces and nephews just because they were half-bloods?"

"Yes! Our people must remain strong! We cannot allow impurities to weaken the lines we have! Our lines must retain the strength of our ancestors to make our people grand again!"

Sir Ioan shook his head sadly at the man's words, and asked one more question, "Why, instead of killing all those of half or less blood, couldn't the heirs of your people be raised as Sarmatians? Isn't it the culture of your people that is truly dying out, Lord Tor?"

Before Tor could answer, Sir Ioan laughed suddenly and added, "After all, even you must admit that there are other races of people that are just as good at warfare as the Sarmatians are."

Tor growled and responded stubbornly, "No! Our people are the most important thing! If our people are strong and pure heirs are named, our culture will thrive!"

There was a pregnant pause where the men and women of Briton tried vainly to grasp just what Tor was talking about. It wasn't in their abilities to understand what Tor was talking about. In the many generations that Rome had ruled Briton, they had lost many of their sons and daughters in many hundreds of battles with Rome and the Sons of Sarmatia that Rome sent to the island. But, they had never let that bitter them to the wonders of every child they could birth from their women precious wombs. For ever child was of the clan and every one held responsibility of raising them. This…this complete and horrid disregard for innocent babe lives was horrendous!

Many of the Sarmatians found themselves on the receiving end of dozens upon dozens of mad glares. Those Sarmatians that wanted the help their people embrace new ways of thinking, felt like they were as small as those mythical leprechauns, and felt their faces flush a horrendous red.

Sir Ioan cleared his throat and ended, "Why do you support Attila?"

Tor answered once again like he was scripted to without fore-thought, "Because he is our greatest and strongest ruler! He can bring our people back to purity and greatness!!"

This chapter was spit in half. The next one will be up tomorrow or Wednesday depening on how fast I can edit it.


	20. Chapter 20

Reunion 20

Chapter 19 part 2

Sir Ioan rolled his eyes, gave soft, drawn out whistle, and said sarcastically, "Okay…you may step down, Lord Tor."

As best as he could, Tor jumped down from the witness chair, and hurried to his seat. Even he could see that his testimony wasn't doing their team any favors and cursed himself for being so honest. _But I can't help it! They made me swear by Mithras!!! What was I supposed to do???_

Sir Ioan cleared his throat and called, "I summon Lord Artur Bearclaw of the Sarmatian Bear Tribe and second supporter to Attila to the stand."

Lord Connor, who was overseeing the entire court, watched the second witness with dispassionate eyes. This was normally a job he loved to do. He enjoyed listening to both sides of the story and judging the outcome so his people could receive justice or receive punishment. Unfortunately, this wasn't one of those cases. _All I want to do with them is to hang the dirty, evil beggars and be done with them, but the laws were the laws…._

Duke Duncan once again walked gravely up to the chained Bear clansman and intoned seriously, "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, by the Blood and Honor of Mithras, Son of Sarmatia?"

Artur winced but replied, "I, Artur Bearclaw of the Bear Tribe, swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, by the Blood and Honor of Mithras, may I be killed for dishonoring this sacred pact."

_I can't believe this! How will I get out of this mess Attila's gotten us all into? It's because he couldn't suppress his raging bloodlust that we're here in the first place! But, I do have to wonder though…if he only chocked that Briton Btch, how'd her neck get cut?_

"Lord Artur, tell the court in your own words what you and your fellow Sarmatians found when you arrived here on our island."

Artur opened his mouth to answer, when he caught sight of Agrimpasa. She was grinning smugly-like she had something to be prideful about. Just because Tor didn't sell her out, didn't mean he wouldn't-to save his own skin of course! _After all, if Attila and Tor are killed, **I'M** the next in line for the Bear Crown! If I must, I can work with Miskoc as well as Habren and her idiotic liberal ways…_

He grinned evilly and replied, "We found the island to be exotic and like nothing we had ever seen before. Our lands are green, but Briton makes them looks pale in comparison. We also found the people to be more open about their lives than we had ever dreamed to be with foreigners. They let us into their homes and fed us as though we were the Kings of Briton herself. But, we were intimidated. The people, they had seen all our weapons and are warhorses, and instead of running in feat like most people near our homelands, they smiled at us in greeting; most even called out Knights of the Round Table. Now, in after thought, I can understand. These Knights of the Round Table are really our Sarmatian brothers. Anyways, as we traveled here, we found out that the Roman our sons were sent to serve had become King of Briton, and we were angry."

He took a deep breath and continued, "We had been told by a local village girl, probably nine or ten summers old, that the Knights that served Arthur for fifteen years lived in Camelot and that they had gained Lordship over various lands across the lower southern half of the island. We couldn't believe it. For two to three years, we have believed that this…King of Briton…had forced our beloved sons to stay and fight for him, and we grew angry for our sons' slight of honor in their place. But, when we arrived and received the graciousness of the King, we found that our sons weren't as dead or forced as we thought. We found out that our beloved Princes had chosen to stay and married Briton women! It seemed like a horrible dream in which we could not wake up from! And then, they tried to make us leave as if we were perfect strangers! Us! It's simply not done! Bors was a childhood rival, maybe, but we still knew each other well growing up! It was like…he didn't even know me anymore!"

Sir Ioan interrupted Artur because his rant was droning on and on and all the spectators were half asleep with boredom, "Yes! Thank you, so, do you too, believe in Attila's theology?"

Artur snapped out because he was still in the redness of his ranting rage, "Yes! Attila will be the one to bring our people back to greatness! He even found two Sarmatians in Greece who stayed near their old post because they had bastard children to with the Grecian whores too!"

Sir Ioan was disturbed to see a malicious gleam enter Artur's eyes as he ended, "The screams of the young girls as they burned inside their tiny wood hut of a home, was music to my ears. Attila dragged Owain and Yvain back to Sarmatia kicking and screaming!"

Then he shrugged and finished as if in a after thought of baleful pride, "The twins were married the very night we arrived home and are now fathers of five-three boys and two girls."

He leaned in and added just because he wanted to, "Attila's brought the Horse tribe out of extinction, you know? It was once twelve homes and now it is bursting with families of thirty or more!"

Sir Ioan grimaced and said as he turned to Sir Owen, "Thank you, your witness."

Sir Owen looked down at the notes he had taken of the dialogue between the two men and shook his head and said, "No further questions your Honor."

Lord Conner nodded and said to the witness, "Thank you Lord Artur, you may sit down now."

Artur shrugged and shuffled back to his seat. As he sat down, Agrimpasa smiled sweetly at him, but underneath her sugary sweetness, he could see the coolness of a heart long frozen to the wonders of the world.

For that he mourned her. He knew the world as a whole was harsh, but at least him mother had loved him, and not sold him to become some person's sex slave.

Lord Connor eyed the prosecuting solicitor and said, "Your witness Sir Ioan."

He cleared his throat and replied, "Yes Your Honor. I summon to the stand, Princess Habren duLac of the Lion Tribe of Sarmatia, High Princess of the Eleven Sarmatian Tribes, heir of High King Babai and High Queen Ama of the Lion Tribe, younger sister to Marque Lancelot Shieldguard Lyon of the House of Lyon, Knight Commander, King's Protectorate, and First Knight of the Round Table."

Lancelot bit back a cry of surprise. His little sister was being called up to the stand?! How was this possible? She didn't have anything to do with this…right?

Attila near roared with anger. He grabbed his solicitor roughly by his billowing sleeve and yanked him down to growl something into his ear. Sir Owen gulped and nodded.

He smartly straightened out his uniform and announced, "Your Honor, I object! This woman has a vengeful agenda with my client, and I'd like to know the relevance of her testimony to this horrendous crime that my client has been accused of!"

Lord Connor nodded and said gravely as he stared down Sir Ioan's eyes, "So would I Defense Solicitor. Would you care to explain Sir Ioan?"

Sir Ioan stood tall and proclaimed, "I am merely using Lord Lancelot's sibling as a character witness, Your Honor! The Lion Tribe is well known for its liberal theologies. If I can show that the Sarmatians are on their way to more liberal ways of thinking, I can easily prove to this wondrous court that Attila is nothing more than a murderous killer, and needs to be paid in full for his crimes."

Lord Connor looked thoughtful for a moment and nodded silently giving the solicitor his freedom in this instance.

Duke Duncan swore her in just a gravely as he had the previous two-only a few words were different, "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, by the Blood and Honor of Mithras, Daughter and High Princess of Sarmatia?"

Habren answered back with all the dignity of a woman in her position and rank could offer, "I, Habren Lionstone, High Princess of the Lion Tribe of Sarmatia, swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth by the Blood and Honor of Mithras, may I be killed for dishonoring this sacred pact."

Sir Ioan nodded and asked, "Isn't it true, my Lady, which you believed that some of the Knights still lived even when their term of service to Rome ended when all others had given up hope?"

"Yes."

Sir Ioan stopped right in front of her and asked seriously, "Why? All of your people had given up. Why didn't the flames of hope still burn in your heart?"

_I can't answer this! This is a much too personal topic to discuss in open forums like this!! But…I did swear…damn it! I have now choice…I **MUST** tell them why…Melean will be angry and very much embarrassed!!!_

She cleared her throat, tilted her head down so she wouldn't have to see anyone and replied softly, "I never gave up hope because my brother made me a promise. It might have been immature of me, but I held on to that memory of him promising to return after I had given him my charm necklace. I…"

She took a deep breath and added even more quietly, "And I also never gave up hope because only Lancelot could annul my marriage with Melean since it was determined by my mother and father. As High Prince and Heir Apparent, he could have vetoed and annulled the marriage in an instant."

Unfortunately, the courtroom was stone-cold silent. Every person within the large structure heard her words perfectly. The Sarmatians turned towards the husband of the Lion Princess and saw that he was red with anger, hurt, and mortification.

Habren winced as a burst of heated air seemed to hit her face and lift her hair as her fellow Sarmatians began to whisper excitedly to one another about her confession and about how it would explain how she hadn't bore Melean an heir in their five years of marriage.

As she lifted her head to see Melean's reaction, or predicted reaction, her gaze caught her brother's. Lancelot's large brown-black eyes swam with murkily with sadness and sorrow. She blinked. It wasn't possible! _Could he really care for me still…even after all this time???_

Lancelot had to bite his lip as he tried to stop a swelling burst of tears from exploding from his eyes. He had known that his sister had only hoped for his return so he could annul her marriage, but to hear her say it belittlingly-like it was all his fault she was married to him in the first place-hurt. And that surprised him the most.

_Okay Lance, once this entire mess is over, Habren and I need to have a **LONG** talk._

Sir Ioan looked at her apologetically and asked more gently, "So strong was your belief in the fact that Lancelot was alive, you asked to come here to find him, correct?"

Habren took a deep calming breath and answered with a slight wince as Melean stormed out of the courtroom, "Yes."

"Princess Habren, isn't it also true that your tribe is the most liberal of all the Sarmatian Tribes?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"I beg your pardon?" admonished Habren with wide eyes.

Sir Ioan smiled slightly and said again, "I apologize, allow me to rephrase…how did your tribe come to the conclusion that keeping your people pure was wrong?"

Habren took a deep breath and retold the story her father had told her and her siblings many times-even Lancelot knew it-, "It was of the time of our grandfathers, and my grandfather adamantly opposed the purity ideals that were spreading fast within the Horse, Bear, Snake, and Hawk clans. You must understand my grandfather was the first son of the current High King. As such he was given a grand education as did all the Lion Tribe's first born sons. He new the lore of our people and knew that none of us, as Sarmatians, I mean, could claim to be of pure blood as we had the blood of dozens of ethnic races. That's how he figured out how it was possible for us, as Sarmatians, to have various colors of hair, eyes, and body builds."

"Ah excuse me, but could you explain your last statement?" interrupted Sir Ioan.

Habren thought for a moment and replied, "You see, he theorized that certain ethnic groups were known for special and or unique physical features. Like Egyptians had straight black hair, slanted brown eyes, and brown skin, the Romans had tall foreheads, strong jaws, and proud noses, and the Britons had slight, lithe bodies, and brown black hair or brown and amber eyes-and rarely any other coloring there to. But, as Sarmatians, we have claim to a wide array of physical features…that's how my brother can have black, curly hair and brown-black eyes, I can have light brown hair, and brown-black eyes, and Gawain can have long blond hair and sparkling hazel green eyes. We are all different!"

Sir Ioan nodded and asked, "So, how did this influence his theology on blood purity?"

Habren snorted and answered, "Grandfather thought it was rubbish and warned them all that too much interbreeding would destroy the royal lines, and he swore to never marry into his own family line if he could not help it. Instead, he married a Cheetan Princess and had my father. As my father grew, the theology of my grandfather flourished within the Lion, Wolf, Eagle, Coyote, and Cheetah clans. It was hesitantly accepted in the Panther and Leopard clans, and out right rejected in the others. As the years went by, our culture grew with our enlightened thoughts and we traded more with those outside out boundaries. It is now to the point were our clans kin can marry whomever they choose as long as the partner can prove to the royal family that they are not weak and are able to protect not only themselves but also any children that they will have in the future."

She shrugged and ended as she stared darkly down at the Princess of the Wolf Tribe, "But, even in the most enlightened of Tribes, there are some who do not share their siblings' feelings and thoughts on outsiders. Isn't that right Agrimpasa?"

Sir Ioan raised and eyebrow and thought as Gawain and Galahad's sister's eyes jumped around the room in a sudden burst of anxious nerves _Praise be to Jesu! There's my next witness!!!_

Sir Ioan nodded and said, "No further questions."

He turned to Owen and said, "Your witness."

Sir Owen stood up smartly and asked abruptly since he truly didn't want to do this, "Isn't it true that you now have a vendetta against my client, Princess Habren?"

Habren took a deep breath and answered resolutely, "Yes."


	21. Chapter 21

Reunion 21

Chapter 19 part 3

**Last chapter before the Epilogue!!**

**Sorry if it's a little short and fast paced, but I've been really antsy to get this completed!! **

**I hope you like it!!! **

The court room was a buzz of chatter and shocked gasps of excitement as Sir Owen hummed and said as he nodded his head in understanding, "So, would you care to explain to the court about your vendetta against my client?"

Habren rolled her eyes slightly and replied in a droll tone of voice, "My vendetta against Attila is not just my own. Every Sarmatian woman here and a few males too have a vendetta against him as well. I personally do not like him because he has become _"Romanized"_ in his gender theologies."

Sir Owen blinked, shook his head in disbelief, and asked again, "Would you explain your last statement?"

Habren sighed and told the assembled Britons all about their proud race, "Our races, the Sarmatians, are descended from the prideful, warrior women and warrior men named Amazons. As Rome gained more and more power, Rome's theologies and beliefs slowly merged with our own unique livelihood."

She paused and continued on, well-aware of the harsh stares of her fellow Sarmatians that supported Attila even in the slightest, "So much so that Attila now thinks as a Roman male-that a female is good for nothing more than warming men's beds, breeding, and cooking. A few days ago, whilst we still stayed at the castle, Attila was, I think, conspiring about one of his diabolical plans when he spoke of these Roman theologies. He shocked and disgusted us all and my brother, Prince Tarkan, regent of First Prince Lancelot duLac of the Lion Tribe, publicly denounced him and his title and he is as you see him now."

Sir Owen nodded in understanding.

It was a sensible reason to have a vendetta against his client, but he had to push and plunder on, "Understandably your anger towards my client is justified, but I'll redirect…Miss Katheryne was found dead…how did you find out about this terrible tragedy?"

Habren shrugged and replied, "I found out when Lancelot's squire, Alec, told him and the other Knights and the King himself."

Sir Owen raised an eyebrow and asked briskly, "Do you **think** Attila killed her?"

Habren settled down into the over-sized chair and answered with a lackadaisical wave of her hand, "His dagger was found on her cold, dead body. If he did or did not, I'm not sure, but I have no doubt that if he had found an opportunity to kill her-he would."

Owen slammed his hands down on the table that was in between him and Habren and demanded, "Explain!"

Habren huffed and thought to herself after her body settled down from the shocked jolt of surprise _why am I still on the stand? I have been sitting here longer than both Tor and Artur! Why isn't Lancelot helping me? Why won't Ioan help?!?!_

She grumbled slightly to herself and answered back as she glared superiorly at Attila, "He and most of the other Horse Tribesman are bloodthirsty barbarians…the Bear Tribe too. It doesn't surprise me in the least that he's on trial for murder."

Sir Owen blinked at her words and let her go with a polite thank you.

He turned towards Ioan and said with a small gesturing wave towards the people in the center of the room, "Your witness Sir Ioan."

Sir Ioan stood tall, smartly straightened his suit, and summoned commandingly, "I summon Atilla to the stand!"

As the court room grew loud with excited whispers with the climax of the story, Lady Knight Chloe marched forward with her double bladed sword and placed a strong hand on his shoulder and shoved him towards the stand.

Atilla growled and resisted as much as possible.

As Duke Duncan placed his staff in between him and Attila he asked gravely, "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, by the Blood and Honor of Mithras, Son of Sarmatia?"

Attila was seaming mad. As he opened his mouth to lie his way through the mud that was his life right now, Ioan called for his first piece of evidence.

"By your leave, your Honor, I'd like to call forth Prosecuting evidence number one-exhibit A."

Lord Connor, nodded and said, "Bring it out."

Attila could only watch with reddening with rage cheeks as a knife with his initials engraved in gold was handed to Sir Ioan. The Prosecutor smirked smugly at him and asked in a coldly self-righteous voice, "Attila of the Horse Tribe, do you recognize this knife."

Attila growled out softly, "Yes."

Duke Duncan asked again more loudly, "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, by the Blood and Honor of Mithras, Son of Sarmatia?"

Attila jumped to his feet and screamed out savagely as Lady Knight Chloe pushed him harshly back into the witness chair, **"YES!!!!!!!!!!!!"**

Sir Ioan's eyes narrowed as he asked with a sweetly polite smile, "Your Honor, will you tell the witness to speak up. I don't believe the jury heard him correctly. Since this trial is very sensitive in nature due to the Foreign Officials involved, I would like to be sure that no corrupt variables can enter this trial and cause harm to the final decision."

Lord Connor nodded thoughtfully and said, "Attila, answer the question once again loudly enough for all to hear."

Attila growled louder and grumbled out loud enough for those in the back to the Trial Chambers could hear it easily, so the opposing sides could not claim that the other side had corrupt the answer, "Yes, I recognize the knife!"

Sir Ioan asked with a small smirk, "Which initials are blazed in gold along the edge."

Attila's eyes rolled along the gold and said grudgingly, "A, d, u, h, u, k."

Sir Ioan rolled his eyes and prodded along mockingly, "And that spells, what exactly?"

Attila slammed his hand on the table, shocking dozens of viewers, and yelled, "A. duHuk! It spells A. duHuk!"

He got into Sir Ioan's face and demanded hotly and in a slightly crazed tone, "Are you satisfied?!"

Sir Ioan simply leaned back and asked coolly, "And who is A. duHuk?"

Attila's eyes glinted eerily red in the low candlelight as he replied, "I am A. duHuk. The knife is mine."

Sir Ioan smirked, crossed his arms and asked lightly because he knew he had won the case, "And how did **YOUR** knife end up in Miss Katheryne's neck?"

Attila raised his head and answered with calmer, lazy eyes, "Don't know; don't really care."

At the older man's words, Sir Ioan frowned. He glanced to Arthur's Head of Intelligence, Marquis Tristran Sentinel Palðer (Panther) and nodded as Tristran tilted his head in acquiescence. Unfortunately for Attila and a later victim, Lord Tristran's palace guards are very skilled in the arts of perception and reading what lies in the grounds of the island. Plus, Tristran had shared all of Sir Morton's evidence with Sir Ioan too.

Sir Ioan said properly as decorum prevailed, "We have a molding from Miss Katheryne's body. The hand that crushed her throat has been measured by our best mathematicians."

Attila sat up straighter and glared as the Lady Knight, Chloe, brought forth a wooden sculpture of a hand very familiar to his own.

As it came to a rest by Sir Ioan, he demanded hotly and with vigor in his voice, "Your Honor! Please tell the Defendant to place his hand in the mold!"

"Do it!" demanded the Lord of the Courts, Marquis Connor Arbitrator Truth of the House of Truth.

Reluctantly and gravely Attila obeyed.

With another demand from the Honorable judge, Attila raised the wooden mold for all to see-it was a perfect fit.

_Damn it! Now what can I do?! Blast those Romans!! Only they would make such a fuss over a servant bitch dying?!?!?!_

Sir Ioan smirked and continued smoothly, "So, Attila, how did **YOUR** hand get on her neck when you were, as you explained to King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table,_ 'sleeping in your chambers the night of the attack'_?"

Lancelot was eyeballing Attila's purplish face in fascination as the man sputtered and drooled. It was clear that the aging Sarmatian was either going to faint as all his blood flooded his head or have a vein burst in his head.

Attila was mad!

He did not want to continue on this line of conversation. He didn't understand why he was there in the first place! _All I did was crush one little servant! It's not like I killed one of Camelot's precious heirs like I had originally planned on doing!_

_It's not even my fault all things considered! If the **Sons of Sarmatia**, who were supposed to have returned six years ago, returned like they promised twenty years ago, I wouldn't even be here! _

_Then, because they did return home, that silly brat of a Princess, Habren, got this ridiculous idea to come here and find those who were still alive!_

_And to make it worse, when we got here, our sons stayed because they wanted to! They preferred Briton, the land of their slavery, to their homeland, the land of freedom! _

_And then, I lost my Elder's position because that stupid princess, Habren, got upset because I want our people strong! _

_And to make them strong, our women must be pregnant and birthing our men children year after year! _

_Then, adding insult to injury Habren, that meddling **WOMAN**, dishonored me because I'm the only person strong enough to do what needs to be done to bring our sons home in anyway possible! _

_Oh! Oh! And the best way to end my life…on trial for killing an insignificant woman servant whose death shouldn't warrant a trial!!! _

_If we were back in Sarmatian a woman's death wouldn't be so important **AND** I'd be able to do away with her body easily enough!! _

_**These people are idiots! **_

_Worrying about an insignificant woman is proof of their idiotic government! _

_I need to bring our sons home **NOW** before they are ruined anymore than they already are! _

_Perhaps, if I bring them home and torture them enough on the journey home, I can retrain them to be what **TRUE** Sarmatian warriors are known for!!!!_

**_AND….I'M LOSING MY OWN TRIAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_**

All the Knights of the Round Table watched in satisfaction as Attila's eyes seemed to burst into flames and then darken to near deadly hues-he had finally snapped!

Attila roared, "Yes! I killed her! I **HAD** planned on kidnapping and killing Dagonet's brat of a daughter to make him and the other Knights return home! As I made my way, in the shadows, to their chambers, I ran into that bitch of a female servant. I can't have any witnesses, so I crushed her fragile neck and dragged her into the nearest closet I could find. Once inside, I dropped her there and returned to the chambers we had been given."

He calmed down some, smiled sweetly, and ended in a horrendous tone, "I didn't want to disturb the guards, you see?"

As his eyes roamed over the courtroom, he smirked at Agrimpasa, pointed her out, and confessed normally, "When I awoke the next morning, my knife was missing and Agrimpasa said that she had barrowed it!"

With a casual shrug he ended, "I didn't care anyways. I own three others exactly like it."

With those words, Agrimpasa screeched, "You lied to me!! **BASTARD!!!!!!!!!"**

Sir Ioan winced as the courtroom grew louder and louder.

Galahad jumped to his feet as his sister tried to lunge for the double doors and yelled, "Don't let her escape!!!!!!!!"

Lady Knight Chloe, Aldus, and Duke Duncan neatly grabbed her just before she reached the heavy doors and dragged her kicking and screaming back to the center of the trial chambers.

As Lord Connor slowly got the people under control, Sir Ioan eyed his superior. Tristran nodded for him to continue. Ioan could tell that Lord Tristran was quickly reaching the end of his nerves.

But, before he could open his mouth, Agrimpasa yelled angrily at the man she would have done anything for, "**TRAITOR!!!!!!!!!**"

Attila grinned evilly at her and replied tonelessly, "If I die, so do you, you whoring bitch!!!"

Even Galahad couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for his sister as her face paled drastically and she sagged in defeat in Lady Chloe's grip.

Sir Ioan sighed and shook his head.

He didn't want to do this, but he had a job to do and justice waited for no man, "Your witness, Sir Owen."

His opponent was physically shaking. This was a terrible situation and what was worse, he was going to lose this case because Attila lost his temper and said sourly because, **once** **again**, he owed Ioan **ANOTHER** lunch, "No questions, your Honor."

And honestly, he really wanted the crazy Sarmatians gone like the others so…he wasn't all that mad.

Sir Ioan grinned and said, "I summon my last witness, Princess Agrimpasa of the Wolf Tribe, younger sister of Marquis Gawain Axelord Wolfe of the House of Wolfe, Lord of Manchestar and Ynys Wyth (Dragon Isle) and younger twin sister of Marquis Galahad Weaponsguild Wolfe of the House of Wolfe, Lord of Dummonia (Cornwall) and Lyonesse Isles to the stand!"

Duke Duncan groaned as he dragged himself to his feet, grabbed his staff, and shuffled over to the witness chair. When he reached the woman who was trying to seduce his son-n-law, he wanted nothing more than to gut her from stem to stern and leave her to bleed to death on the hilly moors of his Lordship-Powys, but he knew he couldn't-he was scared of his daughter.

_Emmy can be scary when she's on a revenge trip. _He thought with a sheepish look on his face.

Lord Connor purposely cleared his throat and looked at him pointedly.

He blushed slightly and said, "Oh, right, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, by the Blood and Honor of Mithras, Daughter and Princess of Sarmatia?"

Agrimpasa stared into the eyes of the man before her. She couldn't believe that after all she had done for him-Attila had betrayed her.

_I have done everything for him!! I trusted him! He's the only man I've ever trusted since that horrible day twenty years ago! He had saved me from that brute, and in return I gave him my body! I have stood by his side, in the shadows, for twenty years! I've even slowly yet surely started to sway the Wolf Tribe's views on purity of blood! I can't believe he did this to me!!! He is all I have left!! I mean, mother hates me, father doesn't need me to carry on the line threw marriage anymore since Athena and Areia are now of adult age to be wed, Gawain barely tolerates me, and…and…and my own twin brother…he **HATES** me! I won't even give me the time of day! Even now I can feel the scorn of his words and the disgust of his eyes. And when I found out about being a simply brood-wife he looked gleeful…he was **GLAD** I was to be sentenced to such a life. _

She bit her lip and asked herself sadly _what have I done to deserve this kind of life? It wasn't my fault mother had me practically raped for Lancelot's return home just so I could please him upon our wedding night! I didn't choose to be the brute's victim! Mother sold me out! All for the power of the Lion Tribe!_

She sniffed and ended with resolve and a surprisingly calm soul, _no! It was all because mother lost to Ama when Babai came home forty years ago! She had been Ama's competitor and one of Babai's choices for a wife, and she was vengeful when Ama won and mother had to settle for second best. So, she tried to gain the power of the Lion Tribe through me…therefore thoroughly ruining my life in her effort to become all powerful! Perhaps it'd just be easier to die? I mean…my own family hates me…what is there left in the world for me?? I certainly have no children to care for…yes, I think death is much more preferable._

Sir Ioan frowned and said, "Your Honor???"

Lord Connor crossed his arms over his well-muscled chest and insisted very loudly, "Answer the swear in, Princess Agrimpasa!"

Agrimpasa raised her head and Galahad felt like a sword had pierced him in the heart. His twin's eyes were bloodshot and dead. There was no life left in them at all. Her once pretty blue eyes were dead and dark blue. It was like staring into a corpse's eyes. He shivered and felt cold-pimples (goose bumps) rise all over his body.

She took and deep, soul-cleansing breath and replied calmly, "No."

Duncan's resolve wavered slightly as he stared deep into her eyes. She was serious. She truly wanted to die.

He steeled his steadfastness of a soul and continued on as procedure dictated that he do, "You are aware, Princess Agrimpasa, that answering 'No' waives your right to a trial by jury and equality. With your answer, your fate lies in Lord Miskoc's hands; meaning that you will be subjected to his Blood Oath, and I quote, _"I vow on my blood to punish Atilla and any others for any dishonor they commit against you and yours."_ unquote. Do you understand?"

Agrimpasa honestly didn't care whether or not she understood or didn't understand. All she wanted was to die.

_But, I might as well go out like the bitch they all seem to think that I am_

"Yes, I understand. But, what you don't understand is that I **AM** Princess Agrimpasa Wolfhill of the Wolf Tribe, soon-to-be High Queen of **ALL** Sarmatia. You cannot harm me for fear of war." She ended pompously as she stared at them all down her nose.

Before she could get into a proper rant, Tristran cut in, "Princess Agrimpasa, you have waived your rights to a fair trial in the Court of Briton. As such, your punishment falls onto Lord Miskoc, or have you conveniently forgotten that?"

_No, I have not you Panther idiot! Get on with it already!_ She swore in her head as she carefully kept her face blank of all emotion.

Tristran's eyebrow rose at her blank face, but he settled back into his throne-like chair as Judge Marquis Connor stood up and started with an odd look on his face, "Men and women of the jury, men and women of Briton, my fellow Knights of the Round Table, Lord Tristran and Duke Duncan and My Lord, King Arthur, here before you is an unusual case. You were brought in here, in this Chamber of Trials, to listen and fairly judge Attila duHuk of the Horse Tribe on the charge of First Degree murder. Unfortunately, during these trials proceedings, Attila's temper escaped his control and he confessed to his crime. Also, during the course of this trial, another, Princess Agrimpasa Wolfhill was implied to have added insult to injury when she took Attila's dagger and savagely dragged it across an already dead woman's neck. Regrettably, Princess Agrimpasa has waived her rights to a trial hearing and now, her punishment falls under Sarmatian Blood Oaths and Laws."

He took a deep breath and continued on in a passionate tone eager for justice, "Before you now, is a choice: is Attila duHuk, former Elder and Regent Lord of the Horse Tribe guilty or not guilty?"

He took a seat once more and ended with a regal nod of his head and an imperial wave of his hand, "You may be dismissed to discuss this in the adjourning chambers."

Lancelot leaned over to Arthur and whispered, "What are you thinking?"

Arthur leaned back tilted his head into Lancelot's and whispered back, "I think the Sarmatians are going to stay for a while."

Lancelot smiled and said, "Good, I can finally, really **TALK** to Habren. We definitely need to get a few things straightened out."

Arthur's emerald green eyes bored into his brown-black ones and asked, "Truly? I hope it goes well for you, Lance, I honestly do."

Lancelot patted him on the shoulder and said, "So do I Arthur, so do I."

To no ones surprise-the jury marched back out into the Trial Chambers a few minutes later.

As they stood in front of their seats, the First Juror handed a folded piece of parchment to Lady Knight Chloe, acting guard and Court Aid, and she then handed it over to Lord Connor. The Judge of the trial read it over with a droll face. After a moment he nodded.

As he handed it back to Chloe and as the First Juror took it back from Chloe, he said as he folded his hands calmly, "How do you find the Defendant?"

The First Juror, a woman with graying red hair and dull brown eyes, opened the parchment that held Attila's future and replied stoical, "We find the Defendant…guilty."

The Epilogue will be posted soon! It'll be kinda like All Because of One's Epilogue but more summarized. The Third Fic, The Return to Sarmatia, will be out…not really sure since I start school again soon, **_sooo be on the look out!_**


	22. Chapter 22

Reunion 22

Epilogue

_I can't bloody hell believe that I'm here! When the twins were born, I never thought I'd be here again! I don't even think I wanted to come back here until I saw how Habren was struggling with life since I left._

He glanced at his sister and smiled.

_I'm so glad that we finally talked. After that rough week at the beginning, I glad we were able to come to an understanding: I'd come back with them so mother and father can meet Emmy, the twins, and Cadman, and welcome them into the Lion Tribe as potential heirs to the Sarmatian Thrown. Also, while we're here I'd get her marriage annulled. _

He eyed his sister curiously and with a tiny hint of suspicion as he ended _now that I think about it, her anxiousness and drive to get me home vanished after that and she and Emmy became great friends._

Lancelot took a deep, cleansing breath as he and the other

Knights and their Sarmatian brothers crested the hill that separated him from the tribesmen of his past. He had known this day would come for nearly three months now, but he still couldn't bring himself to believe that he was really here.

When he turned to the right, his emerald green standard came into view, but the one who normally carried it with pride and honor was not.

He sighed sadly; Alec had been his best Squire-but no longer.

Then he grinned with pride!

_On the other hand, I'm so proud of him! He passed his Trial with the highest marks of all the 'Of Age' squires according to Sir Alymere! In fact, Alymere said that he flew like Siolae upon the winds._

Then he smirked as he remembered Alec's face when Enys told him that the woman he helped whist traveling to the Wall, Ina, was safe and sound and was hoping to name her first-born child after him.

_He looked like he would faint! His face was so hilarious I couldn't believe it._

Then he shrugged and added with a mental smirk directed to his mental picture of Alec,_ I told him that he'd gain women's attention when he achieved Knight-hood status._

When Emogen turned to him with raised eyebrows, he smiled to say that he was fine, and added with a bland face and controlled emotions, _to bad Dainera didn't think it was as funny as I did. _

As his sister and brother, shouted out in happiness, which jolted him into awareness once more, for their elation in seeing the land of their forefathers, he cast his mind back to how he ended up here in Sarmatia once more...

**_As the courtroom emptied, Miskoc turned to Arthur and said respectfully, "If you'll release the accused into my care, King Arthur of Briton, I shall hand out their punishments as quickly as they can be laid down so as they do not become a further harm to you and yours."_**

**_Arthur bowed his head and said seriously, "Attila, I cannot hand to you as he was tried in our courts. As such Lords Connor, Tristran, Lancelot, and myself shall levy his punishment. As for Prince Tor of the Bear Tribe, Artur of the Bear Tribe, and Princess Agrimpasa of the Wolf Tribe, their punishments are yours to handle with my sorrow for the actions you must undertake."_**

**_Miskoc bowed his head in understanding. _**

**_As they were taken away, Lancelot said, "Arthur, whatever you choose for Attila, is fine with me, I'm sure. But..."_**

**_He paused and looked into the eyes of his best friend and ended with confliction clear in his brown-black eyes, "I MUST see Agrimpasa's fate to the end."_**

**_At his friend's confused look, Gawain piped up, "As much as _**

**_Lancelot wants to deny it, he WAS to be Agrimpasa's husband AND he IS the First Crown Prince of the Lion Tribe. As such, he MUST go and witness Agrimpasa's punishment...as well and Galahad and myself as we are her older brothers."_**

**_Lancelot smiled sadly at Arthur in agreement._**

**_When Agrimpasa was brought before Miskoc with irons wrapped around her wrists and ankles, Tarkan said gravely, "Let's get this over with." _**

**_Arthur added as they vanished into the darkened hall of the wall, _**

**_"Just do it outside of the Wall."_**

He couldn't believe that he had actually sat there and watched as

Agrimpasa was beheaded by Miskoc, as was the Sarmatian's way of handling those who broke their sworn oaths as the leaders of the Eleven Tribes of Sarmatia.

Moreover, he couldn't believe that Gawain and Galahad had witnessed it too, and not tried to prevent it. He knew that they had wanted to, if only for the reason that Agrimpasa **WAS** their baby sister and twin.

What surprised him were Agrimpasa's last words to the three of them...

**_As Miskoc respectfully pulled her wavy blond hair away from her neck, to make the beheading as smooth and bloodless as possible, _**

**_Agrimpasa said softly into the wind, as though she was entrusting Britannia to deliver to them her last message..._**

**_"I know I am not innocent, and for the many evils that I have done, I take much of the blame as it was my decision. But, not all of my life was mind to choose. My life and innocence was stolen from me the day mother, no, Dowager Queen Malana of the Wolf Tribe, handed me over to the brute for him to use me as he willed. She did this because she was loosing you and Gawain to Rome and I was her only leverage to the Lion's power and influence. Lancelot, please forgive me for the pain I might have caused you and your family and know that I DO love the children even though it didn't look like towards the end."_**

**_Then her eyes lifted and she said with a beautiful shine, a deep peacefulness, deep with in them, "Remember me as I was before Malana ruined me, I love you all." _**

He closed his eyes in sadness and was shocked to feel a tear fall. He couldn't believe that he still felt so strongly of her death and last message. He spared a glance at his wife and smiled. She was watching him with a soft, understanding smile. _This is one of the reasons I love her so, she always knows what I am thinking and understands me so easily...like Arthur._

He bit his lip as he looked around. His brother's-n-arms, who had decided to travel to Sarmatia with him and his family, all stared back at him in silence. Their wary excitement of returning to the land of their birth was shadowed by the knowledge that their children were still in danger. Even though those who had traveled to Briton had accepted their children and wives, their parents and those of the Tribe had yet to lay down their decisions. Their children were still in potential danger.

They were patiently awaiting his orders-silent or verbally.

He sighed-he missed Arthur and those they left behind. He took a deep breath and nudged his horse into a slow walk down the hill that separated him from his childhood memories.

As they made their way down the hill, he thought about how he was going to explain his reasoning for staying to his mother.

When he could easily feel the harsh yet curiously weighted stare of his Tribesmen, Lancelot leaned over and said in a whisper, "You

Know…"

Then he froze-Arthur wasn't there.

He had grown accustomed to just knowing that whenever he leaned over to the left, Arthur would be there with a quizzical expression on his face, which was always open for him to talk to. He had to chock back a sudden urge to gallop back in the direction he had come from because for the first time since they had started the journey back to Sarmatia, he realized that Arthur was thousands of miles away safe on their island and **NOT** by his side.

He gulped and awkwardly cleared his throat as Emogen smiled knowingly at him once more with a serene, gentle smile. She understood-Cordelia wasn't by her side either.

He had to quickly whip a tear from his eye before it made a tiny river trail along his cheek as he remembered his and Arthur's parting...

**_Lancelot was smirking at his friend and King, but they both knew it lacked its normal luster and cockiness. _**

**_With Emogen and Cordelia by their side and tearfully saying their farewells, Arthur said in a forcefully cheerful tone, "It's going to be great around the castle with you gone!"_**

**_Lancelot snorted and said, "Yeah, and who knows, I just might _**

**_LIKE Sarmatia so much that I'll decide to stay with Emmy and the kids."_**

**_They fell silent. This was the first time in a very long time that neither one of them could think up anything to say to fill the suddenly stifling silence that surrounded them. _**

**_Then..._**

**_Arthur lunged and closed the gap that had formed between them and pulled him in for a fiercely protective hug that spoke the volumes of objections and emotions that Arthur was feeling about them leaving. _**

**_Lancelot blinked in shock for a minute before his smirking face melted into a gentle smile and his arms wrapped around Arthur, subconsciously, to return the heartfelt hug._**

**_As they pulled apart Arthur confessed, "I'm going to miss you, _**

**_Lancelot."_**

**_Lancelot grinned slightly and said, "I'll miss you too."_**

**_Then he added in an attempt to lighten the mood, "Besides, I only stayed to help you govern Briton anyways. I think you know what your doing now, perhaps it IS time for me to go back to Sarmatia after all..."_**

**_Arthur snorted and said dryly as they parted, "Yeah right, I can just see you sitting in a room full of hot-blooded Sarmatians and arrogant Roman officials-they'd all be dead before the first hour died."_**

**_Lancelot threw back his head and laughed out loud in joy. This is what he loved about Arthur most of all-it wasn't his honor, his views on equality, or even his dreams of a peaceful world. He loved Arthur so much because of his dry wit and humor in any situation-it complemented his own sarcastic wit flawlessly!_**

**_Arthur's smile fell as he added, "Seriously, I don't want to think about how these next six months will be without you and the others _**

**_Lancelot. It'll be a nightmare I'm sure."_**

**_Lancelot shook his head and said equally seriously and confidently, _**

**_"Arthur, don't worry. I sincerely doubt that you and Cordelia can utterly ruin Camelot and Briton in six months time. Besides, Aldus is highly trained and you will have Bors, Dagonet, Merlin, Merkin, and Duncan as well to advise you. You'll do fine."_**

**_He grinned wryly to himself and said with a shrug and small smile-as if he didn't truly believe what was coming out of his own mouth, "Who knows, you might like Aldus' work so much that you'll forget all about me and Emmy."_**

**_Cordelia cut in with a soft, loving smile as she slipped between them and wrapped her arms around him and Emogen did the same to Arthur, "Not bloody likely!"_**

He shook himself and groaned. The stares from his Sarmatian family were bold and demanding. He cast his commanding gaze around those that had gathered around his siblings, Habren and Tarkan, and couldn't believe what he saw.

The eldest man in the group, was gray hared and time had weathered the man's once strong body. The only thing that identified the eldest man as his once well-loved father was his snapping chestnut brown eyes.

The eldest woman was one he could never forget-no matter how hard he tried. Where her once chestnut, elegant brown hair flowed in a river down her back, it now hung in a tightly controlled white braid down to her waist. Her brown eyes, so like his, were clouded and blurred-time had apparently stolen a part of her eyesight as well.

Then there were the two youngest-his baby brother and his baby sister, Zimkar and Hera. The man he supposed was Zimkar had his black raven hair, but it was straight like his mother's and Habren's and her eyes were the snapping chestnut of his father.

Lastly, was his baby sister, Hera, daughter of Babai and Ama. She had curly chestnut hair and dark black-brown eyes. Her face was flawless and innocent. She was no older than sixteen. _Am I truly so old, as to say that my youngest sister is a child in this world???_

He shook his head again, cleared his throat, and dismounted after he raised both hands to prove that he was unarmed.

As he moved to Emogen to relieve her of their son, Cadman, he said stoically, "Hello father, mother."

**The Third story, The Return to Sarmatia, will be a sporadic update as school starts once again and since the classes are U.S. Government and U.S. History-I'll be busy!! Be on the look out though!!! **


End file.
